Monday, June 17, 2013

poem of the day 06.17.13

misery women and me

she used to come
into my parent’s basement
with her little dresses and little smiles

she used to lay on top of me
her breath faint with pasta

and kiss me
and tell me that i was her husband
and that she was my wife

we’d stay like that for a while

her on top
two kids cuddling

quiet in the dark as the other kids played outside

our breath heavy in the stale summer air

that little brunette
my little bride of suburban pittsburgh

the only action that  i’d see
for at least ten years

full of misery women and me.


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