The Bookcase
The bookcase
has been replaced with
another bookcase
The new thing is made in Sweden
and assembled
in the wet dreams of code breakers
and psychiatrists
I try
all the bits are there
I thumb tiny pieces of metal
into crude wooden holes
the ‘designated ports of joinery’ I believe they’re called
Before we know it
we have a coffin shaped box
in the middle of the floor
The inevitable heated exchange ensues
planning ideas are slung back and forth
with the girlfriend
she’s flustered and gorgeous
I’m half erect and inappropriate
- which is more than can be said about the cheap furniture
and then I pause
Wow
look at us all grown up
we’ve made it
we’re finally fighting
about things
that don’t matter
Three Yet to be Free
Mother worried
rumination running 'round eyes
twisted sleep bag deprivation
desperation ticks
and a yearning for warm body bed comfort
Daddy dead to the world
dead on his feet
workman hands stretched to brittle bone
calluses’, bumps, Band-Aid
broken skin
and short tempered
watching young shapely legs in the rear view mirror
Baby
sitting
waiting
crawling
crying
watching clouds creating shapes
drift to nothing and disperse
into blue
the ever endless blue
where dreams escape beyond horizons
and where lost pets play
forever out of sight
Followers
About Me
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Blog Archive
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2012
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November
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- I’ll Be Writing the Rest of My Poems from Prison b...
- Four Poems by Antony Hitchin
- Three Poems by Mather Schneider
- Margaret by Wolfgang Carstens
- Fresh Off The Brazier, Medium Rare by Donal Mahoney
- The Very Last Friday by Jonathan Butcher
- shipping news by Sam Ledger
- Two Poems by Danny D Ford
- under the tuscan sundress by John Grochalski
- Gray Matter by Dena Rash Guzman
- The Not-So-Epic by Shawn Misener
- Three Poems by Cassandra Dallett
- Two Poems by Ali Znaidi
- The Science Of Free Prostitution by Robert Wilson
- Two Poems by David Parham
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November
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