Inevitably Unresolved

Hard Leather Tie

Those days when the bus arrived

people got into it

we got into it - me and the people -

I say there was a profane

litany in the journey

emanating from an ambiguous location

questions without answers

repeatedly coming

while concentrating the gaze on the thought

outside, I say

there was a methodical swaying

comparable to that of a hard leather tie

suspended from the rod, confining

the hands they held, firm

the same vivid, drunken questions

answers trying to silence the

green, cruel, humiliating monster

which always renounced quiting

(me)

At those hours the river was

badly defined, the city alienated

the streets were dying in

a few meters or even

debated into an infinite

submerged by mist’s chance

the chest’s weight swallowing it all in a dark blue suffocation

By the hands – all by themselves -

neither Amsterdam, nor Lisbon

just the sky

inevitably unresolved.

©2017, José Eduardo Coelho