lunes, 27 de noviembre de 2006

Doors

Smacking, smoking near the dead doors
we smoked desire’s cigars by the dread doors.

Without trembling, voluntarily, you
rang and walked through death’s tulip bed doors.

They warmed up their lips on a winter night.
She showed him a pink key for the red doors.

Trash-canned desires, televised dreams and
wingless dogs all came running through bread doors.

Gil comes and goes prancing and wondering
Are there any auto-suicide’s bed doors?

4 comentarios:

Anónimo dijo...

i think the auto-suicide’s bed doors are only made by yourself in your mind

Anónimo dijo...

I believe that in this poem all the doors represent both self inflicted doors and metaphorical doors. Doors are interesting because they represent both opportunity and barriers. There is a mysticism to this poem that reminds me of the Southwest.

V dijo...

Not always opportunities.

Anónimo dijo...

No, not always opportunity but also not always barriers. A door is a conflicted metaphor.