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p o t h a l l a

this brush
against each other
the mirror knows our lies
a cabinet of thieves
like that finger of wind
through the vines

glitter and go
adjusting the bold
dusted black
cupping your breasts
your smooth spine
the valley of your back
how my hands
sooth the warmth
and strength
your weakness
to me exposed

we drive
the wheels
along the windows
the trees expressing
the light
like film
staggered like slashes

bent forward
the glow on your
chin..your parted lips
your hair a tonic awash
fluid dark like the river

and the moment
when the wheel
drops in the long
trough of darkness
the shear tensile
snarl over the
powerful engines
throaty lush
and we veer
and thrown
limp in the beauty
the dashboard
blurred in the great
leap over the curb
the dexterity and
delirous drop
and your charmed
young scream
in the headlights
rushing gleam
the madness
the music drumming
its beat in quad
bass beat rush

three more payments
in the crush crumple zone
your arms thrashed in
the deceleration
and the watch a gift
shattering its bands
like shards in the dust
of the curvature of
the windshields rush
in like a painful rain
and blinding


Editing stage: 


I hope all is well with you! As always - your work is full of fantasic imagery and wonderful use of language - which is an absolute delight to read! It just fires up the imagination and is so full of energy!

I have no critque - I think critiquing your poems is beyond my ability!

But I am intrigued as to your title! what made you choose p o t h a l l a? I await your reply with interest!

Love Mand xxx

Once again you tease the senses and tickle the mind with your extraordinary words! I can offer no crit, but offer instead my admiration for your talent as a poet!

ojibway bush mystic side....
i was always driving from sixteen on.
not professionally but driven to drive..
a compulsion..obsession
and an ex and i would drive home
from the bar...the road was i this
glacial hill and hummock landscape
there was this long downward straight
and a bend...along the river....i should
go google map drive it..

but one group of people didnt make the
curve....went down the long grade of feild this little drop and into this steep
deep dark tannic lake....they died..i figured
the jolts would throw then about knocking
them out..the state of intoxication etc..
and we have bad roads..but in america
they are very bad in places....not saying
we are better...our infastructure is more
compact....the cities i believe also..people
more huddled in one aread...then widely
dispersed...up here it didnt get settled until
late eighteen hundreds.....anyway..
pot halla was the pothol the fictional driver
hits..this is the basic intro to many a story
about driving...cliff hanger..mystery suspense
drama thing..its my knock off version of it
i feel it was kind of cheap...but i wanted to
handle an already done done thing and see
if i could put a storyline into a plot line into
a poem and it came out pretty good actually
i life is coming apart at the
seams...everything is going great...its just
change for me thats the hardest...and even
though for my level i have a lot.....sometimes
when it was all ahead of you it was more
exciting.....still....i dig in..keep going.....
thank you for the comments on this one..
my writing is helping me always..
i will try to come here more often and comment
too.....ive been away some..
thank you

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