Poems from the Pier

Walking at night with you

I go night walking
When I can’t sleep,
Thinking of you

Three, perhaps four
I walk down from my room
On the hill, past the bars
The bistros, the Turkish barber
With all of its window’s closed

Though more of the doors are alight
And still open than I expected them to be,
The seagulls are wild in the air
And sound like dogs

And though I am quiet
I do not feel alone,
I walk down the slope
Still thinking of you,
I close my eyes
And find you there.

 

The Pier

Are these the cruellest waters yet?
Or have we further out to swim,

Put on my boots
For they’ll weigh us down,
We’ll sink below those depths
That we’ve forever dread

What I thought was seaweed
Intertwined about my wrists,
Turns out they’re chains we wove in secret
Somewhere out there beyond the pier

I once believed in living things,
Drowning’s no fun when doing it alone

Come swimming with me tonight
Though I must admit,
The water’s very cold.

Author: jameskramerblog

James Kramer is a fiction writer currently based in Beijing.

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