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Vision in Draft

Better Luck Next Time, Perhaps

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/

Read next: We Ended
Thomas Owens
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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Vision in Draft
Read Next
We Ended