My comrades are silent!

Brothel-like,

white eyes of Bellagio Suites

stare into the crisp shadows hiding me–

forming from men hanging their day’s spent

on parallel lines of black cable wires

their now drenched, detergent smelling jerseys

leaves puddles on hot terraces.

 

While, I stand

Smell of coffee wafting

the yellow lights yellower than a jaundice patient

brighten more than the neighbor;s dusty car

I feel breezy

and hear caressing. Like waves falling one on top of other.

forming a effervescent froth on the top; a taste of saline

Fish pickled in vinegar.

 

But honestly, these silent beings,

made of flesh and concrete

steel and blood

stand uncomplaining

to my constant chatter

only speaking among the shadows

their long bodies cast.

 

But when I look,

far and wide;

a city far away

with far less people

with nevertheless, a million lights.

 

hooks

From the old wooden dock

I flung my rod

Deep into the ocean.

 

The reel flying in the air

Made a horizon with the seagull

With the hook pulling me down

I could feel my catch

 

fish got caught

the sharp hooks

tearing its gills apart

 

the blood leaking  from the fish

stained the brown wooden boards

 

“It looks disguting”

And the fisherman carried his stuff

And left.

 

 

 

 

 

hooks

From the old wooden dock

I flung my rod

Deep into the ocean.

 

The reel flying in the air

Made a horizon with the seagull

With the hook pulling me down

I could feel my catch

 

fish got caught

the sharp hooks

tearing its gills apart

 

the blood leaking  from the fish

stained the brown wooden boards

 

“It looks disguting”

And the fisherman carried his stuff

And left.