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Fifteen years going on sixteen,
well recall many pinprick
moments of our combinatory
existentialism

But an early moment reappeared,
in a period of contemplation as I
this morn, wove my way thru Manhattan
city streets, during my diurnal walk of
composition, a tradition Walt Whitman
passed on to me, in Leaves of Grass, so
over my Manhattan journey~obstacle course,
now a three times weekly endeavor, of
a two and one quarter miles duration,
this came unto me

Very early on, in our ro~dance
we attended some cocktail/
business function, properly attired,
a first for us, and thus a tad exciting,
and in the elevation machine at the
Waldorf Astoria Tower sky bounding,
she stun gunned me with the simplest
of positories…

How shall you introduce me?.

this nimble tounge, so rarely at a loss,
gave an intuitive and simple answer:
You are my girl friend, no pretense,
I proffered and she thoughtfully
replied,

While an absolute truth,
perhaps since I am a Nana,
over twice,
and you, a Grandfather
over thrice,
perhaps something less
juvenile is in order?


Mmm, perhaps you are right, then
let me suggest boldly to name you
as my lover, none other and let
their mouths fall agape so full
of their crackered
canapés?

She paused a moment on our ascent,
replying,

Undoubtedly true and such
a good lover are you, but the touch of ******
in many an impoverished mind, gives it a
tangy hint of the unseemly tho, b u t
if that’s your preference, lover will it be,
but perhaps wordsmith, you keep on trying?


Ah I knew a rejection letter when I got one,
so cruising higher, proffered a ‘my best friend?’
but her glance clearly indicated that suggestion,
wholly unworthy of my skilled verbosity and
more appropriate to a dodgy dog, if such I did
possess

The elevators of NYC, are sure and swift in
elevating its population, and a growling
desperado emotive was taking me hostage,
I had what is now a “3S look,” an abbreviation
for when I wear my Simply Stupefied Smile

Perhaps I may suggest that should the need
arise for you to introduce me in a phrase accurate
and simple, that might suffice?


Smilingly weakly, I, poet, awaited what surely
was to be an obvious solution to my wordy
and worldly failure,

Please introduce me as
Your Biggest Fan
and I shall, dear one,
if asked,
will offer you up as my
Only Love Poet


And to this day, when introduction~making,
I feel the sweet smile of an invisible and
silent kick in my humbled and egotistical
****
a mostly truish & lightly embellished story
KG Nov 2020
Waiting on the elevator
For my day of labor
Instant gratification after
Days of waiting safer
Now we talk in secret
Spaces craving the others
Flavor of disgust leaving
Rust in my joints and bones
Masochistic I remember
Pain has always been my
Home.
Masha Yurkevich Jan 2019
There is
no elevator
to success;
you
have to take
the stairs.
Success does not always
come easy,
but it will come to those
who care.
Maya Sep 2018
the sun will die
but not for a long time
not before our own infinities
collapse into the absurdity and
the unimportance of it
all.

the sun will die
but not before goodwill
closes its doors one last time.
so long ****** $1 books and
memories of old people couches
that smelled like **** and beer and your great-grandfather's
apartment.

yeah, the sun will die
but not before those
kids who used to pick on you
and that ******* on the train
who got kicked in the ***** for making lewd comments in the quiet car
become worm food for
more decent creatures.

the sun will ******* die
so be glad.
everything ends including
all us *******,
us heavy breathers and
old ladies and ex-cons and alcoholics and plain humans.

the sun will die
but we got other things to worry about
more relative than all the others
so we may as well
enjoy
the
wait.
Saki Wang May 2018
Floating





       Low
Enough


To

Press
The
Basement Floor.
b Jan 2018
my writing class is above the pharmacy.
an old elevator
still rising
when the doors open.

nothing poetic happened to me today
so why am i here
Guden Oct 2017
I'm stuck in an elevator
Between floors
I can't remember if it was going down,
Up,
Maybe sideways,
I guess it doesn't matter anymore.
I'm stuck in this lift,
Alone,
I've always been alone.
Ten years ago I thought I was,
You convinced me otherwise
Now you're gone,
Moving up,
Or down,
With somebody else.
And I'm stuck,
Between floors,
With myself.
You told me in the end I was terrible company,
Now I know,
It's true.
I don't know that person
Looking back at me
In that mirror
In a lift,
That is stuck
Between floors,
Maybe 9 and 10,
Both are my lucky numbers,
Not anymore.
I've been trapped in this cabin
For hours
Perhaps days,
I'm not sure
You took my watch.
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