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Casey Hayward
Poems
Mar 29
Great
Great,
after a perfectly good week,
you stub your toe. Isn’t that the way?
I was speeding around town,
singing to the radio,
spending money,
getting my toes painted
and my shoulders rubbed—
When I ran into my cousin.
Who I’d forgotten about.
ERRRRRRRTTTTTT.
Guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt.
Lost family—aisle 6,
red vest, white Target.
I… hi.
No, not I. Not now.
Worse than forgetting him
was seeing him this way—
in his opinion.
After embarrassed eye contact,
he turned away.
But none of us turned out
the way we wanted.
Why didn’t I yell after him—
“I’m not really doing anything with my life either.”
2/29/12
Written by
Casey Hayward
36/United States
(36/United States)
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