hey ...
hey ...
sorry
i wasn't listening
and i guess
i missed
the verdict
that the jury of
those twelve people
inside your head
brought in
just before the stroke
of midnight
actually i was busy
in the kitchen
making coffee
and figuring out
the physics of
a perfect brew
even if the cup i had to use
was clearly someone else's
someone who apparently
went by the name
"Joe"
hey ...
sorry
i wasn't listening
when you rushed into the room
and in a gathered fury
flung the last of
my poems
out the second storey window
and to be honest
i was busy wondering
if metaphors made a sound
when they floated
into oblivion
floated through the summer air
like kites without tails
some drifting into rainy pools
where i guess inky promises bled
across the paper
into dark blurry doodles
while others caught the barbed branches
of trees to blow like
flags of defeat
streamers of surrender
in the land you
once referred to as
"Evermore"
hey ...
sorry
i wasn't listening
when you slammed the door
so hard
the bougainvillea
crashed down
from that perfect arch
i built
just for you
but after all is said
and done
i suppose
you probably said
something pretty wonderful
something i could hold on to
something i would always remember
as a token of a love shared
yes
probably something more
and more and more perfect
but all i heard
all i really caught hold of
was a simple pulse
in the steamy cicada air
that sounded a lot like
"Goodbye"
sorry
i wasn't listening
and i guess
i missed
the verdict
that the jury of
those twelve people
inside your head
brought in
just before the stroke
of midnight
actually i was busy
in the kitchen
making coffee
and figuring out
the physics of
a perfect brew
even if the cup i had to use
was clearly someone else's
someone who apparently
went by the name
"Joe"
hey ...
sorry
i wasn't listening
when you rushed into the room
and in a gathered fury
flung the last of
my poems
out the second storey window
and to be honest
i was busy wondering
if metaphors made a sound
when they floated
into oblivion
floated through the summer air
like kites without tails
some drifting into rainy pools
where i guess inky promises bled
across the paper
into dark blurry doodles
while others caught the barbed branches
of trees to blow like
flags of defeat
streamers of surrender
in the land you
once referred to as
"Evermore"
hey ...
sorry
i wasn't listening
when you slammed the door
so hard
the bougainvillea
crashed down
from that perfect arch
i built
just for you
but after all is said
and done
i suppose
you probably said
something pretty wonderful
something i could hold on to
something i would always remember
as a token of a love shared
yes
probably something more
and more and more perfect
but all i heard
all i really caught hold of
was a simple pulse
in the steamy cicada air
that sounded a lot like
"Goodbye"
