salt water pine

a subtle sniffle of smoke
and the caw of the crows
whose shadow i know. yes,
and the neon runners
smudging crooked red lipstick
the opposite way
because I move clockwise
in the slow lane.

and the cat sits on the sill
and my heart is still so ill
and my rhymes rhyme like time
and my tea tastes nothing like


there is a passage
i know. a tunnel and a turnabout
where graffiti is cleaned
in misty blank veils of grey,
but the spiderwebs are made
welcome to stay.

here, i call home.
here is nowhere but somewhere
i am but for now,
then forever,
and never again.

written on 10/06/2015 by: Matt Kane