Death In Venice Beach. A poem by Terrence Sykes

(….after Thomas Mann)

It’s A Small World
bookstore on Venice
boardwalk was first
glance was he even
of age to surge an aging
man’s hormones
chance encounter
in the hotel elevator
just he and my
flight of fancy
this urge grew
beyond reason
heeded me to
stay even as
announcements of
new contagions
flyers on the
bohemian strip
willing to make
this reckless gamble
upon the roulette wheel
each day growing
bolder like a cur
in the dusk crowd
overheard him bemoan
tomorrow was his last day
madness descends
upon my tiring body
obsession sears my brain
night of vertigo
unsteady my gait
stumbling into the sands
unlike the roaring tide
I fall and never rise


Terrence Sykes was born and raised in the rural coal mining area of Virginia. This isolation brings the theme of remembrance to his creations, whether real or imagined. Other interests include cooking, gardening, heirloom vegetable research & foraging wild edibles. His poetry – photography – flash fiction has been published in Bangladesh, Canada, Ireland, India, Mauritius, Pakistan, Scotland, Spain, and the USA.

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