Vision in Draft

by Thomas Owens 12 months ago in sad poetry

Better Luck Next Time, Perhaps

Vision in Draft

If one is to die, it might as well be in Paris.

But to get there, now there’s the trick...

Oceans of stagnant neon former water, still and lost, fall on pale faces

with creature hands –

sumptuous/inviting/hopeless

and glistening sweat you never thought could smell so good,

and endless crying,

and endless mistakes,

and drinks of all sorts/what a world we’ve created,

this funny world of ours.

To die happy –

now there’s the trick...

to be someone in a world of someone nobody hopefuls;

to carry a priceless dream into a cold world,

living in an endless

Bardo...

to secure the end,

and see caricature happiness, all gone and gone and gone, and

to have every BODY know you,

but you don’t know no BODY.

Bright skyward cinema screen,

now there’s the trick...

but the fuzz itch lingers,

and the mind wanders,

and the hope is just that.

And the sketch of life grows dusty,

and the dream of death in sunny lit rainy Paris...

now, there’s the trick/

sad poetry
Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Thomas Owens

English Literature and Journalism degree; Creative Writing MA; juggling two very different novels and much more.

"Let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences."


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