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The Agricultural Engineer

I have a story in an old shoe box
and I leave it to spin out
all the time

A heart ache framed in that trusty old-schooled ink and it bleeds
like a bruise
on tattooed thighs

I’m stood with a blush of pink insincerity
and i find that I cannot tell a lie

You see, like a bird
like a falcon way up high
and you breathe like a new born
swimming child

You teach
with the wisdom of an ancient rested soul
and I want to be near you all the time

There’s a key in the garden where you fall asleep at night
there’s a lock hidden there under
the chime

But the wind is howling haunted
and it leaves you feeling blind
and you can’t
remember how to tell the time

It’s written in the kitchen, right there underneath the clock
There’s a sink full of truths I can’t deny

But you walk through the hall in those dirty, old work boots
leaving marks on my floor and on my life

A sidewards smile holds a cigarette, alight

The dirty, honest dishes
left behind

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14 responses »

  1. I. Bloody. Love. This. So effortless and poetic. I haven’t rationalized the title fully, but admit that it lends an air of mystery to the poem itself.

    Reply
  2. Because it’s so much more romantic than a simple gardener, this manly person with dirty boots. I knew a landscaper once, when we were young. All your poems have voice I hear.

    Reply
  3. This one. It beats, it moves to that beat. It just flows…

    Reply

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