deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fellini's Strada of Broken Dreams
Fate is all I am.
A post-script left in a taxi,
Unpaid fare to a brief encounter.
Bereaved flowers seek their fallen petals,
Mountains crease behind the crepuscular sun.
Send back the clowns,
For they are not needed now.
Hang all the clowns,
Their painted smiles
Washed away by the rain.
Travellers in the dream trade,
Reality shunts at forty-four frames a second
Like fighters banking in an old war film.
Stage fright, at last in the spotlight,
Cast finally,
As a corpse.
Fade to dark
A post-script left in a taxi,
Unpaid fare to a brief encounter.
Bereaved flowers seek their fallen petals,
Mountains crease behind the crepuscular sun.
Send back the clowns,
For they are not needed now.
Hang all the clowns,
Their painted smiles
Washed away by the rain.
Travellers in the dream trade,
Reality shunts at forty-four frames a second
Like fighters banking in an old war film.
Stage fright, at last in the spotlight,
Cast finally,
As a corpse.
Fade to dark
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 2
comments 4
reads 327
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.