207 ~ More A Son Poem by stan pelfrey

Save me! !
I’m falling, plunging
into a ring of tragedy
shot full of despair,
the face of time
looms toward widening,
space mongrels eating
through the ropes-
my languid, open drive
of conscious metaphors,
stupid nights, safe trees-
who reveal views to new worlds
dead visions, I’ve never
completed in front of
my ancestral past, who
see me as the leader
new salvations, cracked
mirrors, creaking out
images for a hidden
soul to see the inner
joints of liquid
dreams, splashing down
my liquor tube, making me
drunk with excitement,
things to come,
but I’ll never
put foot to track.

Please, Father
stop this pleading
for my pheasant’s
fire is fading fast! !