Rio 1987.


Morning at the favela


Vodka breakfast saw the sun
long before the bay's wild water
twinkled in the long wind
rolling thin salt up the hill.

Cocained for days I suddenly fell
into numerous conscious descents,
down unwired warm scrutiny
into a much softer light.

Rough edges tend to blend
with the common
with each distilled drop
on its speedy passage.




Poetry by Bob
Read 646 times
Written on 2006-05-16 at 01:44

Tags Cocain  Brazil  Rio 

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Troll
sounds like a wild year, that 1987.. personally, for me it was just the year i learned to ride a bike... :))

that time in your life seems to have left a mark on you... because the description is astounding, genuine, just plain good but

lol, what is it with guys and peeing outside?? (or am i reading about that wild water wrong)...

a much enjoyed read...

~troll
2006-05-16