you lost your keys and i
fell in love with modigliani
as i stood there waiting in a dust filled corner
smote and smitten with the angle
of a sun designed to rip my heart out
while you cursed and carried on
everything is always locked
but the eyes of this dark-haired girl
in a poster tacked to the blank back wall
her empty stare covering the hole
you drunk-punched open
on a night i will always remember
she knows everything about you
and i can’t read that droll expression
yet if i stand here long enough
in this spot of dancing light
my shadow will become her
November 12th, 2013 at 7:59 am
Powerful!
November 12th, 2013 at 8:08 am
whew…the drunk punched hole…the stare of that girls as it happens and then to feel like her….there is a powerful feel there of fear and lack of control…
November 12th, 2013 at 12:07 pm
A stunning poem and the images move me to tears! So grateful you share you fine work this way! My DH and I are snowbirds returning to our winter home and I’m glad I’ll be taking you along via FB.
Gerry
November 12th, 2013 at 12:56 pm
sometimes your words just “punch” me
this is really raw and beautiful
November 12th, 2013 at 2:15 pm
This one is like being punched in the face by a cherub; shocking, visceral, sucker-punched. I love poetry when it deals with the real stuff of life, positive or negative; this one has dancer’s legs, and a boxer’s jab; really dig it; thanks.
November 12th, 2013 at 3:37 pm
the drunk punch hole is powerful.
November 16th, 2013 at 8:11 am
As others have said, very powerful. Especially if you’ve know exactly what that experience is like.