Mythological streets leading nowhere
(July 13, 2013)




From across an abyss

two princesses looking back

this way.

At a distance in other worlds

He tries everything to continue

sending wisdom in parcels

he wonders if all those

messages in bottles will ever

wash on shore.

At odds with all of it

outside, nothing makes a difference

and he wonders if a person

can suffocate under the weight of the

implications this life

bleeds.



Transitions in form,

and content smash into

the bearded mystic’s

bicycle.



SMASHED by the universe,

crackling solidity. Streets

aren’t as revealing

as they once seemed

in the days of Shields,

Carroll, and Spine Levy; in the days

of pure voices

and speak easies.



An entire world will drown on its

own blood

and all that will be left

are these streets

that lead us

nowhere.

– 



Merritt Waldon is 38, has been writing since he could write. He says it’s the only thing that makes sense to him most of the time.  He lives in Austin, Indiana.

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