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I am the Chest of all Men

I am the chest of all men,
Concave to the rushes of their gray days;
I know the guilts and grief of their women,
What hides in the shoots of their fat dreams,
Staged in the hollows of their pillows.
I beat the breasts of all men,
Drink then rue the body of time spent
Drinking,
I see their dance of sinews:
there at the seams of the night,
shivering shadows,
skin abrupting skin.
I am the chest of all men,
flex the biceps of yellowed ambitions
caress the paintings and books
that live only in their swaggering hearts and plans.
I am the chest of all men.
Author's Note
Unearthed a poem of mine from 1973 and decided to read it, and put my paintings into the recording.

Music is Blackberry Vigil by Tom Fahy. http://freemusicarchive.org/music/Tom_Fahy/
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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