in search of Dulcinea…

Cervantes stares me in the eyes…
i am not Don Quixote…
no trusty right-hand man…
no windmills…

and there are foes outside…
battles to be won…
moving from town to town…
in search of Dulcinea…

looked on 7th Avenue in movie booths…
hands coming through holes…
voices promising pleasure…
t’was not my queen…not my queen…

walked down alleys where homeboys stood…
rapping on cellphones…
speaking in tongues…
for they had not seen…

slipped past Dominicans in Washington Heights…
had not heard a word…
streets offered nothing…
longed for love…

dreamt of Dulcinea…
need for her touch…
wanting of love…
come to me…come to me…

my fight is gone…
body is weak…
to feel my fairest once again…
this is what i long for…

Cervantes stares me in the eyes…
i am not Don Quixote…
no trusty right hand man…
no windmills…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s