Thom Young

A Lost Cause, A Hope, A Prisoner

a lost cause, a hope, a prisoner
of her own heart, a time that once
remained innocent, a run through
the field among
the wildflowers. an acid trip
in San Francisco in 1967, a stroll through death
and a dance in the old ballroom by the docks, a time
forgotten but beloved by the wild-eyed children, a moon that never
lasts, a trip to the blue ocean, a razor that cuts her
wrists and throat, a laugh in an empty schoolhouse, a suicide,
a mad dance on the sun, a desert highway to nowhere, a tree
that grows in her soul, a flower that blooms in the dark
where the light can get in, a sun on a horizon, an embrace that is only a dream, a lullaby for the nymphs around the fire, a strange meeting
in an empty park, a night that never ends, a new way
of loving the wrong way, a diseased dog waiting to kill Poe,
an oven for Plath, an affair with the secretary, a war inside her head, another
dead kid floating down the river, a hollow shell, a lost map
to her past, a chance she never took, a path that leads to a pretty hell,
an insanity that seems perfect, a conversation about murder and coffee,
a dust filled attic of regret, a little black dress called madness,
a feeling that never lasts, a car rusted in a junkyard, a chance at love, throwing it away, a bird in a golden cage, a small note tucked in a book on a rainy day, a pressed flower between Frost and Whitman, a tomorrow that never comes, a day gone, a hope that glows but fades away, a lonely night in a diner, a cigarette that burns for him, a man that keeps her all for himself, the freedom to kill yourself, a bottle of pills, red wine, self-inflicted wound, songs of love and death, open fields with no stop signs, a little sister, an older sister, a wife, an ex-wife, a divorce, an uphill battle, the Jersey turnpike, a witch, if she floats; she burns, skipping like
a stone on the black water, a tongue cut out, the fire burning, the Druids
satisfied, a perfect sacrifice, a blood oath, decreed by the gods, a morning on the trash beach, a symphony that plays for those that came for the music,
a city on fire, 1978 at the fried chicken shack, her ghost that walks along the highway, the only thing she needs, love, love, love, her favorite song
on repeat.

Thom Young is a writer from Texas. His last poetry collection, A Little Black Dress Called Madness hit #1 Poetry in Germany. He is a 2017 Pushcart Prize nominee and his work appears in over a hundred literary journals.