march – Thistle Thoughts

Origin

Yes, life eats at me
Raw, difficult to digest

Your homeland stays inside your bloodstream. When you’re away from it for too long your veins begin to burn with longing.

I listened to recordings of your
voice on splintered cassette tapes
just to trigger a decent dream.

…the airy muslin
of the Spring death shroud…

I wanted to wake up,
but I’m a glutton
for seeing how things
turn out

I think of my muses,
my inspirations,
the best ones
who weathered
their own tribulations

Somebody’s fingerprints
might leave a message.

this could be
viewed as a
re-visitation
of the glory days

I am ready to talk about quarantine.

reminiscing on
eyeliner so thick
everyone will know
you’re crying