Thursday, December 1, 2011

New poem


The End of a World

More drama under the surface than we ever suspected:

She, so needy, needing him so much,
Leaves
One fine fall day, so suddenly,
Yet so treacherously, meticulously planned
Down to the cute smile and wave goodbye
As he left for his three-day campout with his old buddies.

The house dog left to sh** all over the place,
The two outside hounds left without water or food for three days.
Money withdrawn from their joint bank account,
Letters sent to his brothers and sisters cataloging
All his sins, peculiarities, flaws.

But she didn’t mention her own peculiar sins.
That came out later:

The screaming rages,
Chasing him around the house with a huge wooden spoon,
Pummeling him on the head.

Physically ill, mentally ill
Or damaged by abuse from her own father
We don’t know cause and effect . . .
           
            But we see the bodies on the battlefield,
            The wounds, the injury,
           
            The desolation.

No comments: