April 12, 2021

 

Hollows

 
 
 

Hollows

dirty water flows in the ditch
beside the boulevard
through weeds and reeds
a styrofoam cup floats downstream
like a tattered lifeboat

ducks lounge like drunken hobos
passed out midday
on the matted grass
among the trash tossed
from car windows
empty whiskey bottles
like unmarked tombstones

a faded and deflated dome tent
an abandoned sleeping bag
a single worn out shoe
cigarette butts stuck
like half-buried bones in the mud

some people are like this place
the forgotten hollows
everything flows downhill
into them --
too much

or places like the dead sea
thicker than the saltiest tears

you can't walk on it
but you won't drown, either

you can float on its surface
with no effort at all






Article © Brian Rihlmann. All rights reserved.
Published on 2021-03-08
Image(s) are public domain.


1 Reader Comments

Thasia Anne
03/18/2021
11:37:28 AM

Very moving and vivid poem. I love the ciggerette butts line. and the ducks like drunken hobos, just so picturesque.
Great write.

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