March 27, 2013

Seer, Retired

By Tony Brown

Inside the old seer,
landscapes. Still life upon
still life.  Portraits,
abstractions, sketches,
doodles that once
meant something.

Impoverished, malnourished, ravaged;
he lies on a twin bed
in the attic of his sister’s house,
the last place he is allowed,
the last place he has permission to be.

Everything inside him
thrums like a factory.
What’s being made here? Will it be
like the rest of his life, something
only others can use?  For him

“future” has always been just a banner
hung to let them know
where to find him, and
it’s also the last place
anyone will ever look for him.

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown
This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 27th, 2013 at 8:02 am and tagged with , , and posted in poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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