A poem by Oliver Baer
By: Oliver Baer
89. I’m out of place
The unseen guides me to the house of the heart
It’s filled with life
Yet I hear its beat as if buried
Under the floorboards in the ground
Its call eludes me
I’m lost
Roaming the rooms, a thief in the night
Looking to steal a sense of belonging
I walk out to the faded garden
The roses are gone
Somehow my beloved is there
Waiting to give me loving for my face
Beguiling me with her tongue
My reason departs
A croquet ball on its way to the next flamingo
The arc of the mallet flies wide
I’m confused and distraught
We are poor copies to be engaged thusly
Flying together in too close a space
Tricked into descent
Falling stars without name
Crashing together in song and dance
Over the cliffs of fools’ drunken dreams
I must have misplaced my reason