February 15, 2010

Wait a minute, baby

by Mike Boyle

It's a long walk uptown, &
careening, & cold. I begin
running. I run as much as
I can, half-mile or so,
walk the rest. I'll eventually
be able to run most of the way.

When I get there, there's free
hot coffee. They drink coffee all
day. They drink & chainsmoke.
Didn't I tell you this. I did not
speak of the machines, they
could eat your arm, and I did

not speak of tales heard of people
being drug through the machines,
nothing but bones & some pulp
spit out other end. People are
cold, baby. They look thru office
windows like watching TV.

Did I tell you about Dean, the
foreman. I know I did but what
I did not say was I found in Dean
a father figure I was lacking. It
began snowing, & your song came
on the radio. You do not know it's
your song, I put you there,

in my head, singing, so the machines
would not eat me.

Mike's blog: http://bohobait.blogspot.com/


mather said...

I liked this poem. Very nice ending.

Post a Comment