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Jim Hill
Poems
Apr 2011
She Told Me
You're all drawn curtain
and door hinge creak
she told me. Fogged
mirror crack and cold
window draft. Drool
drain drip and
refrigerator politics.
She told me
to shape up. You're
all washing machine
spin, dry skin
and old record skip.
She told me to listen
up. You're all click
of the lock and
ring of the phone.
Carpet stain sore
she told me. All
bedsheet crease,
alright, all mine.
Written by
Jim Hill
28/Queens, NY
(28/Queens, NY)
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