Piker Press Banner
September 18, 2023

Blue Horizons

By Gabriella Garofalo

Blue Horizons

Listen, once a broken time
Mother and Father would tell me off
'Cause I counted as friends gunmen,
Snipers, killers, who spent their time
Shooting dead hearts and rocks --
When done, they went for the adjectives,
Those bloody conjurers who mess up
With our judgment, those swindlers --
Nouns? Nope, they were not dangerous, no way --
Hop in, they would say, I always so ready to oblige --
What? Yes yes I know decent folks are meant
To talk love in a cottage, to joke, to quip,
All those words tripping up, falling down,
But I had to act blue, I had noticed the births --
Look, sometimes we say yes to baddies and culprits,
All that dabbling with lies makes us good at deceiving,
A noble art indeed, don't you think so?
While dreams or bare truths stay safely nestled in the rocks --
Then I changed my blue on a whim:
Whenever my names dragged me down the swamps
There I was, screaming blue murder as if colours might help. As if.
Whenever the rivers blackmailed me there I was tiptoeing 'round water,
A safe skin and drops --
Then again, what could I do 'cept feeding stars
Or sending candles to divas and death?
That's how I would spend my summer.
So long as words grow into seeds
And weekends taste like green fruit
To better fit in the scene
There I am, standing behind my latest affairs
That stop me cold in my dreams --
Look, is the sun that very sec before they bite?
Sorry, no, just a vaulted bridge getting your goat --
See? It only happens to be red, my demise, my friend --
How come you can't see it,
My dearest blahing yakking squawking hens ?

Article © Gabriella Garofalo. All rights reserved.
Published on 2018-02-12
Image(s) © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.
0 Reader Comments
Your Comments

The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.