Gazing Out to Sea

He is as he'd been: not anyone, really,
A guy on a pier as the sun makes its
Exit and all of the proper, productive
Inhabitants of this seaside city leave
For homes in the suburbs and chunks
Of beef, half-hour comedies, wives
And kids, and brushing and flossing,
And off to bed. He stands still, like
The statue of Someone Important,
Who looms on an island, amid the
Grass in the park several steps from
His own ravaged balustrade. Some
Of the clouds now are purple, not
White. He isn't quite hungry. He's
Empty inside. He went to her
Apartment and knocked on her
Door. She was there. She was
Almost the way he'd imagined,
Similar, almost, to how she had
Been, but she didn't smile. She
Said, “Go away,” so he stands on
The pier, not sure where he should
Go. “Away.” That is obvious.
Where could that be? He looks at
The water and up at the sky. Some
Stars have appeared, their little lights
Bearing down on a poor man, who's
Not anyone, really, who hasn't a wife
Or some beef or a TV, or anyplace
He ought to be.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 59 times
Written on 2016-09-23 at 02:05

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text