Resident Artist 3: Dion Loubser No. 9

 

 

Resident Artist 3: No. 9 —- BOOTS

 
The road traveled
Blurs in faded memory
Wrong turns mercifully hidden
We have stood
My boots and I
In the false shelter
Of dark and desperate bars
In every dead end town
Along this road of shame
We have walked
From the beds of broken girls
Bloodied from late night brawls
We have run
Hunted by a past
Best dead and buried
Searching for a truth
We do not want to find
 
Now we hide
Waiting out the day
Swallowing the fear
Sweating beneath the copter whip
Of the ceiling fan
In another rat fuck motel
With the roaches in the trash
And the druggies next door
Reaching for the bottle
Fuel for the fire
Preparing to stride
Into the sheltering dark
At the sinking of the cruel sun
Brave again
My boots and I
And the night ahead
Is already forgotten

 

 

boots

 

 

Copyright © 2017 by Dion Loubser

 

 

 

 

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