(Continues from Porous)
Too long I tarried; they sent a spiral.
It ripped me from a seaside grave and spliced
me into a bewigged decemviral
group meeting in a concrete paradise.
I woke to a strange reality where
parts of lives were excised, leaving us bare
as the lone light bulb dangling above their
jeweled brows. By my tribunal, none are spared.
When the wind stopped whipping me, I looked around. The ocean was gone and so was the dead girl. If she rose, I missed it. A multicolor spiral snatched me away and dropped me, so my feet landing back on the winding road death doomed me to trod. Back to my search, I go, but my spectral feet drag. Finding the frame where I’m free in the mountain of stills we call the human race is impossible. But I go on. I have to. There’s no going back and nothing to return to.
I lost my grave. Maybe no one buried me. Perhaps my ashes drifted on the wind for a time before settling somewhere. A pigeon might have nibbled on my remains in a park somewhere, though I doubt it. So I wonder as the wind pushes me down dark streets whispering the decemvirate’s last command–
Find your story. Learn its end and with it, obtain everlasting peace.
The drops leaving me in an alley. Police lights splash the walls with color. Detective No Name straightens from his crouch and in his hand’s a glassine pouch. Rubies, emeralds, and sapphires wink at me. Who kills a man with a ceremonial dagger?
For OctPoWRiMo, 31 poems in 31 days–all part of one story. Watch me do it.
All 31 prompts are pictured below.
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