Sigh
06-14-2001, 01:43 AM
The fish-monger has risen
beams of light bounce off the cobble-stones
on streets washed by yesterdays rain
the pedlar pushes his cart
rattles down the street with wheels whining
whistles a song he once heard played
by a busker who stayed in his house
I had just left a place
where lonely crowds survey each other with telescopes
and wonder what it must be like in the universe of another
now the sea-air rises salty to my room
full of promises and smelling like perfume
I stumbled to the canteen
where crabs are served and starfish hung
dried, from fishing nets
and the widow whose name is well known
pours coffee from an urn
as I read the morning paper
to the sound of Spanish guitars
falling from the speakers mounted on the wall.
As she refills my coffee she says
"My husband is still alive and I'm waiting for him
though I fear they have thrown away the key"
In my minds eye, I see a revolutionary rotting in a cell
And though she is beautiful
no-one will kiss her 'cause death would surely follow
Leaning closer she whispers
"Everyone in this room is doomed"
my hairs stood on end 'cause we were the only ones there.
The smell of the mainland came in through the window
it carried the spice of amphetamine nights
full of music and mirth
and I had just spent four days on a boat with a thief and his dog
so I hesitated before deciding to continue the conversation
Her presence burnt a hole in me
her beauty shone like gold-rings in a fire
(and could almost stop time)
obsidian eyes glowed liked jewels in a cave
and her lips, when she spoke moved like dark velvet petals in a breeze
Our conversation dredged tales from mysterious depths
like buried treasure opened by buccaneers
as rich and inviting as well aged wine
her words hung like decorations on the walls
of the palaces she built inside my mind
we paraded our histories like gifts from foreign kings
and the air simmered, sultry and lusciously alive
Strangers passed by the canteen
their eyes dark and filled with murder
I was feigning innocence
just here for a cup of coffee and some food
though I must admit that when she leant close,
telling me about her lonileness,
revolutionaries in stucco cells rolled over in their beds
"I'd better get going" I said,
and I walked out into the bright, accusing light
Children were kicking a can in the street
the pungent odour of the alleyways
rose to greet me as I walked through the markets
where I purchased a hat
"Yes Mister you look great in that"
I went down to the sand
with a tattered novel and a Beaujolais in my hand
A sad-eyed, driftwood-skinned man
approached me, carrying some kelp
he said "forbidden fruit often has a bitter after-taste"
I said "If there's one thing I live by,
it's never take advice from someone less content than yourself"
he shrugged his shoulders and a hundred regrets
shuddered in the lines of his face
Night-time slipped across the globe
you could feel it approaching the Archipelago
I had a yearning in my chest and a woman on my mind
Bats were leaving their roosts
I kicked up dust with my boots
the moon was full to the brim as I sauntered down the road
you can ramble any direction, but if your mind is clear
you'll always end up where you're going
At the canteen a fan flickered light on the walls
they were playing cards and I thought I heard some-one groan
put my money on the table and she offered me a match
her fingers lingered in my hand
I just knew everyone could see the electricity
but you know – bad things come to those who hesitate
I lost the last of my money a little after twelve,
(my reserve tucked in my shoe)
an excuse to retire from the drunken company
each one of the stairs on the way to my room
echoed warnings into the heat of the night
but echoes often lie
I was waiting in the kerosene light
listening for her delicate knock
but all I heard was yelling,
and someone tipped over a chair
the voices were getting nearer
Some say wisdom is knowing when to run
(and discretion is the better part of valour)
well the last thing I heard as I climbed down the wall
with my brand-new hat on my head
was somebody breaking down the door
beams of light bounce off the cobble-stones
on streets washed by yesterdays rain
the pedlar pushes his cart
rattles down the street with wheels whining
whistles a song he once heard played
by a busker who stayed in his house
I had just left a place
where lonely crowds survey each other with telescopes
and wonder what it must be like in the universe of another
now the sea-air rises salty to my room
full of promises and smelling like perfume
I stumbled to the canteen
where crabs are served and starfish hung
dried, from fishing nets
and the widow whose name is well known
pours coffee from an urn
as I read the morning paper
to the sound of Spanish guitars
falling from the speakers mounted on the wall.
As she refills my coffee she says
"My husband is still alive and I'm waiting for him
though I fear they have thrown away the key"
In my minds eye, I see a revolutionary rotting in a cell
And though she is beautiful
no-one will kiss her 'cause death would surely follow
Leaning closer she whispers
"Everyone in this room is doomed"
my hairs stood on end 'cause we were the only ones there.
The smell of the mainland came in through the window
it carried the spice of amphetamine nights
full of music and mirth
and I had just spent four days on a boat with a thief and his dog
so I hesitated before deciding to continue the conversation
Her presence burnt a hole in me
her beauty shone like gold-rings in a fire
(and could almost stop time)
obsidian eyes glowed liked jewels in a cave
and her lips, when she spoke moved like dark velvet petals in a breeze
Our conversation dredged tales from mysterious depths
like buried treasure opened by buccaneers
as rich and inviting as well aged wine
her words hung like decorations on the walls
of the palaces she built inside my mind
we paraded our histories like gifts from foreign kings
and the air simmered, sultry and lusciously alive
Strangers passed by the canteen
their eyes dark and filled with murder
I was feigning innocence
just here for a cup of coffee and some food
though I must admit that when she leant close,
telling me about her lonileness,
revolutionaries in stucco cells rolled over in their beds
"I'd better get going" I said,
and I walked out into the bright, accusing light
Children were kicking a can in the street
the pungent odour of the alleyways
rose to greet me as I walked through the markets
where I purchased a hat
"Yes Mister you look great in that"
I went down to the sand
with a tattered novel and a Beaujolais in my hand
A sad-eyed, driftwood-skinned man
approached me, carrying some kelp
he said "forbidden fruit often has a bitter after-taste"
I said "If there's one thing I live by,
it's never take advice from someone less content than yourself"
he shrugged his shoulders and a hundred regrets
shuddered in the lines of his face
Night-time slipped across the globe
you could feel it approaching the Archipelago
I had a yearning in my chest and a woman on my mind
Bats were leaving their roosts
I kicked up dust with my boots
the moon was full to the brim as I sauntered down the road
you can ramble any direction, but if your mind is clear
you'll always end up where you're going
At the canteen a fan flickered light on the walls
they were playing cards and I thought I heard some-one groan
put my money on the table and she offered me a match
her fingers lingered in my hand
I just knew everyone could see the electricity
but you know – bad things come to those who hesitate
I lost the last of my money a little after twelve,
(my reserve tucked in my shoe)
an excuse to retire from the drunken company
each one of the stairs on the way to my room
echoed warnings into the heat of the night
but echoes often lie
I was waiting in the kerosene light
listening for her delicate knock
but all I heard was yelling,
and someone tipped over a chair
the voices were getting nearer
Some say wisdom is knowing when to run
(and discretion is the better part of valour)
well the last thing I heard as I climbed down the wall
with my brand-new hat on my head
was somebody breaking down the door