Still feel

your angry
gypsy

nails

buried in

hopelessness

in my back.

they are

just hole

in the wall

reminders

that I will

never be

invincible

to broken

down love

love affairs.

or ever go

riding off into

the sunset

on the painted

ponies of

your dreams.


or what do

the poets call it

when only

one of you

is in love?


and one

of the ponies

had to

be shot

somewhere

along the

way.


maybe it is

an illusion

that two

people are

truly made

for each other.


I know your

not Barbie

did you ever

see me

as Ken?


or were you

just a left over

thought today

that passed

through my

head on

the way to

somewhere else.


like looking down

and suddenly

realizing that

my shoes


are untied.