by Aleathia Drehmer
I saw myself as I must
have been these last 10 years,
cold and alone, while lying on
the Mexican blanket listening to old tyme
fiddlers jamming in the far tent;
he rose from the makeshift bed, not knowing
that woman, never having the opportunity
to see her on his weekend jaunts to the country
when she was always on her best behavior.
And there it stood in the air between us,
a small firm command with no hint of malice
that stiffened his shoulders and furrowed my brow.
Silence followed as we abandoned the sea
stitched in green and white, opting
for places of stolid separation.
Strings from the banjo and double bass
tuned in the summer air and old folks
gathered closer to hear endearing songs
from youths long gone. I felt inexplicably
ugly in the face of tenderness; always
pushing and pushing until bridges
collapse and I’ve no way home.
- Caseworker: Yams and Plantain
- Mixed Messages
- Christ On the Lawn
- Four is greater than pi
- worse than a gun
- something sad and slow
- now i believe
- Reckless Endangerment
- Laundromat Girls
- How Complex Geometry Gets
- it just doesn’t seem like you
- Bring It On
- Cloud Can
- Time Left Over
- Last Night
- The Other Woman
- The Scene of the Crime
- IRON OVERLOAD
- If there’s a Heaven
- Eleven Haiku / In a Narrative Sequence / Designed ...
- empires come and go
- Real Tacos
- To Zygote in My Coffee, 2003-2010
- FUCK YOU, BANK!
- doorbells, mornings and death or (If you are Cunt...
- Navy Days
- Custer’s Last Stand
- the last five days
- a theme
- "how grimly we hold onto our misery"
- "So when death comes it can only take part of you"...
- THE PRESIDENT
- Black Gold; or the Sea of Tears
- ▼ June (37)
- ► 2009 (479)