Monday, November 26, 2012

Wobbly times number 158

Full moon above Jakarta 

Last night
covered by clouds...

Now heat
blasting my shadow flat
against the white paint
blistering in summer sun
after being stroked
with foul
acidic smelling
skin burning

Grasping the spatula
I scrape the disintegrating
blisters from the
wooden wall
my nostrils
seemingly seared with tin
my throat
parched cracks
like a dried salt lake
my mind drifting in
insane desires
to drink a gallon
of ice-cold Coke

inside the house
Debussy’s “Claire de Lune”
begins to waft gently through air
I stop
get down from my scaffold
set my sneakered
burning feet on green grass
I listen
quenching my thirst
with warm water
Stepping away from the wall
I cast my gaze through the bay window
and see you
caressing the piano
millions of light
years away


  1. Have you been doing some outdoor painting work? Well, speaking of Mike Ballard poetry, I finally registered by copy here:

  2. I did some house painting when I was a teenager. Thanks for registering and rating my book so highly.