Michael Amitin

Marooned Bells

Marooned on the couch brown raft –rocking l’ile de paris
Sullen blackbeard blackboard jazz blowin from across the navy new orleans seas

slo-mo angels doing slo-mo somersaults on my torn red curtain
in these broken domestic halloween bones and mask
I rummage through the ashes that crashed me into this pink– new golden dawn..

lost love is something we can never afford
head stuck on the starboard mast
crashing through storm waves painted in dead dreams

And feeling that familiar regret again that we never consummated
The close quarters then,,, what are regrets other than dead sea gulls
Floating in a ghost soup sea

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