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BRihlmannPoems
We sat at a table after work, drinking pitchers of beer, telling stories, and venting our disgust with the ******** in charge of much of our lives. He spoke up, for a change, a normally quiet, mild mannered worker bee of a man, and said, “I’ve got a lot of venom built up in me.” We stared into our beer glasses, no one saying anything, except two of the women, who laughed at him, then continued talking. I’ll never forget how his face looked like a mountain slope stripped after a landslide, the naked granite beneath cracked and grey, standing silent after the roar of debris, but still seeming to quiver as though a second layer might soon peel and fall.
0
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
A Second Layer
We sat at a table after work, drinking pitchers of beer, telling stories, and venting our disgust with the ******** in charge of much of our lives. He spoke up, for a change, a normally quiet, mild mannered worker bee of a man, and said, “I’ve got a lot of venom built up in me.” We stared into our beer glasses, no one saying anything, except two of the women, who laughed at him, then continued talking. I’ll never forget how his face looked like a mountain slope stripped after a landslide, the naked granite beneath cracked and grey, standing silent after the roar of debris, but still seeming to quiver as though a second layer might soon peel and fall.
Written by
BRihlmann
44/M/Nevada
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
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