Friday, December 21, 2007

Friday poem II

This is me trying to be Bukowski, I think, which everyone should try occasionally.

The Untitled Poem About Resignation

“Damn, you’re calm,” they say to me,
My face a bleeding wreck from
Falling down a flight of stairs.


What I should have said is, “Fools,
Clearly I’m in too much pain
To do a fucking dance for you.”


Instead I say something else,
Something like, “Mmmphh,” which
I guess is code for, “I’m good.”


They all walk away and I
Almost grin, the fact dawned
That this was my family.

As the family fades away, I get stronger


My strength sapped by wasted days


Replaced with a decaying soup-like structure.


Oatmeal.

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