This Time, You Choose

The situation's different now. The playing field,
Once tipped to my side, tips to yours. I do not
Have a car. I cannot hold out hope that you
And I, one of us ersatz sheik, the other,
Comet paramour, could race away, not on a steed,
But in a shitty rental van, toward unknown oases,
Huddled, baking, among strip malls in the suburbs
Of Las Vegas, in the sickening sprawl. You begged
Me to abscond with you. I didn't. I don't
Blame you if curse me still for my neglect,
But, as I said, we're on your field, and, now,
I am the one who's asking to be rescued.
Carry me into your sodden mountains.
Take me from this kitchen within which
A pair of poltergeists competes to see who'll
Rule the roost. I failed you. I apologize.
If you fail me, I won't be bitter. What I will be
Is frustrated. Can't we slip away?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 92 times
Written on 2019-07-19 at 02:17

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