i watched your ancient father beat a man to death
while a dog had blood covered puppies
and a woman who was your wife
screamed at me for stealing cigarettes
i don’t want to but i have to quit you
knowing full well where this is headed
me crumpled on the floor like your armani shirt
and you on a plane remembering the taste
of a younger woman’s eagerness
just another night for you but for me
it’s another mistake
the kind that leaves me with a
black eye and a broken heart
no matter how often i’ve felt this
no matter how hardened i think i am
i always toss and turn and
drown in a thousand goodbyes
win harms
Advertisements
There is some excellent imagery in this poem–the blood covered puppies; only a poet’s mind would remember or conjur that image. We wonder is that the beauty of a simple, natural birth, amongst all the brutality and decay implied, or a shocking image to support how fucked up and fucked over the voice of the poem feels. Whatever—it works for me, especially if I don’t analyze it too much. Good job!