| Carnival Armond Kelty |
Carnival
Coffee tastes sweet but comes with
guilt.
The sun has lost its crispness. I am
still in bed.
Carnival starts today and the city
will pulse with bands and parades.
Carlos readied floats through the
night. He decorate flatbed trucks
that came in from the village.
Each village will have its float.
Carlos and the Children will ride on
the floats and throw gifts to the
crowd, maybe to me if I get out of
bed.
A door slams and a new tenant who
thinks that he lives alone is moving
about in his apartment. Carlos stirs
in his sleep. He will return soon to
work on the floats.
A letter comes and it is terse and
lifeless, much like that slamming
door, much like our friendship.
I read and file for later thought.
What to do when love goes bad, or
just goes. There is no anger, no
pain, no recrimination, no passion.
We are numb. Signaling like lost
ships with broken semaphores on a
wire stretched thin.
I hesitate to show feeling, she acts
as If she has none. Are we too old
and worn out, listless and lazy, too
comfortable to get up off the couch,
too content with a little bit. Are we
tired?
The man next door has gone out
with a slam of his door. The sign
says close it gently, cuidado, take
care with doors: Cerrar
Suavemente.
It is carnival day and we must be
quiet. I will close this door gently.
Coffee tastes sweet but comes with
guilt.
The sun has lost its crispness. I am
still in bed.
Carnival starts today and the city
will pulse with bands and parades.
Carlos readied floats through the
night. He decorate flatbed trucks
that came in from the village.
Each village will have its float.
Carlos and the Children will ride on
the floats and throw gifts to the
crowd, maybe to me if I get out of
bed.
A door slams and a new tenant who
thinks that he lives alone is moving
about in his apartment. Carlos stirs
in his sleep. He will return soon to
work on the floats.
A letter comes and it is terse and
lifeless, much like that slamming
door, much like our friendship.
I read and file for later thought.
What to do when love goes bad, or
just goes. There is no anger, no
pain, no recrimination, no passion.
We are numb. Signaling like lost
ships with broken semaphores on a
wire stretched thin.
I hesitate to show feeling, she acts
as If she has none. Are we too old
and worn out, listless and lazy, too
comfortable to get up off the couch,
too content with a little bit. Are we
tired?
The man next door has gone out
with a slam of his door. The sign
says close it gently, cuidado, take
care with doors: Cerrar
Suavemente.
It is carnival day and we must be
quiet. I will close this door gently.
Poems by Travelers
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