Monday 2 February 2015

STORM SOUTH MILAN

    Another mediocre is at the moment
     intellectualising the mediocre

  1.  and Im praying for it to stop,
    despite irritation,
     it goes on ,
     so  concentrating on pasts
    I recall ,
    before dawn
     winds that  began to pick up , 
    picked from murmer to shouts,
    fulfilling their words 

    that they would
     come after
    weather warnings. 
    You don't need a weatherman
    someone said at the time ,
    wind whipping you as if it were truth ,
  2. a true nor'easter,
      unlike  storms
     we had later.
     Out there in the storm
    last-minute shoppers
     and last minute people
     heading home
     for no holidays.
    It was dead shoppers,
     along dead streets,
     heading to working class oblivion 
    heading towards a world
    of no reward
    but believing.
     I recall the feeling but nothing more.
     However the disturbance, 
    winds  picked up late that night
     and went through the next  day  
     Precipitation largely decided by elevation.
      frozen ground  low land , dead land.
    Shoppers looking for the non existent ,
      amidst them 
    I saw her
    not 45 looking 30 
     all that stuff gone
    and this time stoic resigned
    and I was surprised to see him by her side,
    she held his arm as if  asking forgiveness
    as they walked for oblivion

    he had no nowhere to go
    her neither

    I lived long enough
    to see that. 
     The fight
     to stay on 
     her two legs
      moving never resting
      remembering.

    Dies as in ancient mind
    gone haywire,
     losing pride
    losing control
    losing mind.



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