Poetry

Nowhere – Ally Ameel

i had only ever been there for holidays and death

 

it was a land of oil and stale dreams

those giant money making machines

pumping black stuff for flying machines

and to make cars go faster

up and down

forever

even when i left for a long time

 

when i came back

it was up and down

 

the little house sat on a little street

it was turning into an old lady

with the perfume

and the anecdotes ringing through the air with the smell of age

red lipstick smeared memories of homemade pancakes

while light streamed through the windows upstairs

 

lots of tears and some smiles

until it was empty

they had left

the holidays were over

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s