#mints
less than twenty four hours after dashing off a poem
explaining why i wanted to die
found me experiencing physical duress vis a vis,
a bowel movement wherein waste unable to expel
from the **** of this guy
which bout with ****** obstruction
found me doubled over
with lower abdominal distress
whereby comfort found me unable to lie
down nor sit upright (with back padded with pillows
against the cellar brick wall),
thus severe bloating a bonus well nigh
and managed to muster the means to bare
frigid arctic vortex aire to purchase
the Acme brand Metamucil,
which akin to drano doth ply
thru the excretory tract
supposedly loosening the stools,
which optimism (product
didst earn claim to fame) generated a sigh
if that expressed intent
to cease livingsocial would try
humph enjoining
this lvii year old married male
to cede victory
to the grim reaper, who would vie
as winner de jure
to this common fellow invoking libretto
ohm resistant understudy waste not want not
allowing, enabling and providing relief,
without successful defecation
despite the oppressive urge to bolster this uriah
heap of balled up and tuckered i.e. pooped out
five foot and ten inches of lovely bones
thence mouthing retraction
of former thought to cease existing,
though a non-bull lever
in any power broker qua mankind
relief at long last
provided posterior answered prayer
yet, this scrivener scrutinizes
his recurring pain in the *** jagged torture
and asks
a rhetorical one word question "WHY"?
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC
We stand at the edge of the parking lot
my child like hands wrapped tightly around your first two fingers with your thumb resting on my hand
Like a promise that couldn't ever be broken
A promise that you would always wear a cape
So you could rescue me from all of my demons
But step by step
Your cape became tattered
your grip began to loosen
I keep trying to hold on tighter reaching for your other two fingers
that have never seemed so far away
until now
The promises you once held in the palm of you hands
freely handing them out as if they were breathe mints
begin to lose power
The mint begins to fade just like the gum from a quarter machine looses its flavor just moments after touching your tongue
but I try to hold on to each one
hoping that someday the flavor will comeback
hoping that the thread in your cape will be sewn back together with miracles from angels above
I hang on tighter
Calling each night
just to remind you of how much I adore you
using all of the chewed up gum ***** to hold on to your fingers together
Repeating all of the promises in my mind
Screaming "Some day"
But your hair has begun to turn grey
and wrinkles have begun to crawl across your face
your hands begin to become fragile
but I refuse to let go
Empty promises stack on the shelf
like ***** dishes in the sink
as if reminders of what it used be like at the edge of the parking lot
When I held your first two fingers
your thumb resting on my hand
and you wore a cape
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 11:08 PM UTC
who needs tampons
and breath mints
and safety nets
if you're there to cradle my fall?
i'd jump out of a perfectly good airplane
from thousands of feet in the sky
without a parachute
because i know you'll be there
at the bottom
with open arms
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC