Sunday, May 3, 2009

may 3rd, 2009



This may have been the first poem I was proud to have written and somehow I left it out of Matzo Ball Soup.  Funny how it all works out.  I have edited this a thousand times and something still feels wrong.  Oh well.

passion play



The coffee scalds my tongue and I leap into the air as if a fire had been lit under my ass.  I land flustered and check for anyone lucky enough to witness the quiet act of absurdity.  There's no one to the left, but to the right sits a man clothed in battered overalls with a beard as long as his withered face.  Our eyes meet and he makes it clear the moment did not go unseen.  He tips his cap in my direction as I study his tired eyes, his flappy cheeks, his watercolor frown.  I feel honored to now play a part in what must be a life gone completely overlooked.  He swivels back to face his food as I grab the water glass from my table and smash it across my left forearm.  The blood runs purple.


1 comment:

  1. watercolor frown...
    ...in what must be a life gone completely overlooked.

    these made me exhale

    ReplyDelete