There's something about walking into an empty house
that puts my mind at peace.
Instead of a spouse,
there is a fan flowing on 1,2,3 beats.
Oscillating, turn-tabling,
air stagnant like frozen meat.
Simile.
smile,
Haha...it's supposed to be funny.
It was yummy 'till he
started Ralphing over the balcony.
But, his name is Anthony
I don't care.
He can't fall asleep here and
he won't be driving.
The music is cacophony
Turn the music down for the homie!
The silence is so sweet.
Stumbling into the back car seat.
Oh ef Wolf Ge
Stop lights switch with the beat. Obsolete
keys scratch the lock; He's in the hot seat
Walking a few blocks to his homecoming.
A conversation that never happened in my presence. Seriously...AHHH!!! I can't stop rhyming!!! Assistance please! ONOMATOPOEIA!. There, I broke it.
© May 6th, 2013 by Timothy Brown. All rights reserved.