17 and 37

couldn’t see what was there to see
coming over and sitting on the couch beside me
no talk of anything else but ego at seventeen
blinded to the idea of ever dying young

poets who long for the darkness, you asked
what’s that all about?
others get to go on ahead dangit
why you? I asked

we promised to avoid routes like Bukowski
or Kerouac or Roethke
tangled vines and undergrowth
and long drives out West at night

couldn’t see you there either–in the aisle
thirty-seven and cleaning other people’s lenses
then came upon you once in a Kroger store
and then the phone call before your funeral

~ May 5, 2015

Advertisements

Feel free to comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s