Array ( [sid] => 177314 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Errands [time] => 2013-12-11 06:42:28 [hometext] => [bodytext] => A groggy, drowsy hobo
with a prediliction for
delicate scents and silky woven sheets
crisp and cool on skin
loiters by the entrance
of a preening department store
sitting in the middle of a harried intersection
that's spinning with an erratic pulse
One by one
mind calloused individuals
are drawn to the gilded complex
like inconsequential specks of lint
gathered at his fraying coat
Oh hello stranger,
chirps the agreeably muted lighting
its smiling yellow hues
lounges comfortably within his visage
coaxing him
and the rest of the semi-hypnotised
'You're just a fly'
'Make like a fly'
He drifts in, head bowed
fiddling distractedly
with a non-existent button
preoccupied, distant from the curious gaze
'You're a busy, important fly who needs to pick up a few odds and ends'
The unobtrusive tunes
of a good enough cover artiste
eases a somewhat conspiratory grin
into his expression
It's the glinting revolving door
that floats you in
from hard, reeking pavemet
to sweet, tender hospitality
lilting and ever so subservient
cushioning your back with springy, orthopaedic mattresses
We're talking
all manner of soothing scents,
intercontinental breakfast menu
spread open by your terry cloth robed side
as soap suds dissipate in the adjoining bath
'Brilliant, just brilliant'
Mr Hobo nods contentedly
"May I help you sir?"
A concerned looking sales attendant
Mr Hobo acknowledges her
with a patronising gaze
"No thanks"
A low murmur
gentle yet assertive
the mark of a truly discerning gentleman
Purposeful yet unperturbed
like the blur of shoppers
who seem to be collectively humming
to the cheap tunes of intercom superstar
piped through with a melamine-like gleen
he makes a beeline
for the bed and linen section
falls backwards
with one swooping motion
unto a fresh, fluffed bed
his nicotine stained hands molesting its comforter sheets
'Cleopatra was brought to Marc Antony rolled up in a persian carpet'
He waits for the reverant attendants
to carry him away
'Just another stinking pile of burning trash to snuggle up to'







[comments] => 3 [counter] => 215 [topic] => 43 [informant] => CARAAAAA [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Errands


Errands
Date: Wednesday, 11th December 2013 @ 06:42:28 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: CARAAAAA
A groggy, drowsy hobo
with a prediliction for
delicate scents and silky woven sheets
crisp and cool on skin
loiters by the entrance
of a preening department store
sitting in the middle of a harried intersection
that's spinning with an erratic pulse
One by one
mind calloused individuals
are drawn to the gilded complex
like inconsequential specks of lint
gathered at his fraying coat
Oh hello stranger,
chirps the agreeably muted lighting
its smiling yellow hues
lounges comfortably within his visage
coaxing him
and the rest of the semi-hypnotised
'You're just a fly'
'Make like a fly'
He drifts in, head bowed
fiddling distractedly
with a non-existent button
preoccupied, distant from the curious gaze
'You're a busy, important fly who needs to pick up a few odds and ends'
The unobtrusive tunes
of a good enough cover artiste
eases a somewhat conspiratory grin
into his expression
It's the glinting revolving door
that floats you in
from hard, reeking pavemet
to sweet, tender hospitality
lilting and ever so subservient
cushioning your back with springy, orthopaedic mattresses
We're talking
all manner of soothing scents,
intercontinental breakfast menu
spread open by your terry cloth robed side
as soap suds dissipate in the adjoining bath
'Brilliant, just brilliant'
Mr Hobo nods contentedly
"May I help you sir?"
A concerned looking sales attendant
Mr Hobo acknowledges her
with a patronising gaze
"No thanks"
A low murmur
gentle yet assertive
the mark of a truly discerning gentleman
Purposeful yet unperturbed
like the blur of shoppers
who seem to be collectively humming
to the cheap tunes of intercom superstar
piped through with a melamine-like gleen
he makes a beeline
for the bed and linen section
falls backwards
with one swooping motion
unto a fresh, fluffed bed
his nicotine stained hands molesting its comforter sheets
'Cleopatra was brought to Marc Antony rolled up in a persian carpet'
He waits for the reverant attendants
to carry him away
'Just another stinking pile of burning trash to snuggle up to'









This poem is Copyright © CARAAAAA


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