for Alex
a man holds a good book
as if his hands are cuffed
turns each page
if only to relieve
this, that, wrist
when late
he may
set the book down
to light, or drop
a match
his whole life, planned out
the lit and the dropped
he may pause
here and there
to smoke
to belabor
the end of his life
where he sees himself
slipping from the cuffs
which undoubtedly
fall, then disappear
into some
nightly sound
that wakes his wife
who disoriented
is thankful
she will be on time
her first date
with a man
not yet
apprehended
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 1:22 AM UTC
for Alex
a man holds a good book
as if his hands are cuffed
turns each page
if only to relieve
this, that, wrist
when late
he may
set the book down
to light, or drop
a match
his whole life, planned out
the lit and the dropped
he may pause
here and there
to smoke
to belabor
the end of his life
where he sees himself
slipping from the cuffs
which undoubtedly
fall, then disappear
into some
nightly sound
that wakes his wife
who disoriented
is thankful
she will be on time
her first date
with a man
not yet
apprehended
Request permission to use this poem