The Madonna never disappeared in a cloud of smoke

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem based on earlier sketches for a novel, which was to be about a man with apparitions of the Madonna as a constant companion, but which never had any real chance of being written.

Submitted: June 21, 2008

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Submitted: June 21, 2008



Peace Madonna was a charm
Around the neck of the morning
Corner of night-tredding massage girls
And fried food stinking shop fronts
Glut with folks drowsing empty bottles
Peace Madonna was a symbol
Round the wet corner riding skateboards
She grabbed my drifting attention
At many an intersection
Under wooden-helmetted Chinatown eaves
I listened while talking or being talked to
Listened to incessant angel fan sleaze
On the other side of the park
A flitting shape glimpsed between bushes
Fleeing natural quick as a lark
A furtive Madonna raises finger and shushes
Her immaculately coloured lips
Down to her out of habit poking toe tips
Belie any division in the world
Put jealous thoughts out of mind
But treat my grip on reality in kind
Peace Madonna stood as a flower
Plucked children’s cries off the humid
Air outside apartment tower
At night touched lullabies to grasses wet with fright
Saved languorous local fishermen
Setting them on shoresides replete with mermaid brides
In every weather the Madonna watched loud
Watched proud, pulled round her prayer shroud
But never disappeared in a cloud of smoke
Wouldn’t be so weird if ever she spoke

© Copyright 2018 Adam Clayton. All rights reserved.

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