Without Music

To hear those saps on the radio tell it,
Under orders from the ones who count
The cash and are not saps, the world
Should have lurched into reverse the
Day that woman left, and years and
Months would telescope to put the both
Of us where we began. We'd catch each
Other's eyes, and what was lost, no,
What was trampled, somehow would
Return to life, and we would be in love
Again. She'd drop her coat, and we'd
Embrace, and, ever after, sweetness,
Laughter, all the things we'd known
Before the lacerating words. Instead,
She turned the knob and left. I watched
Her from the window without sorrow,
And, when she was out of sight, I
Only felt relief. The radio was on.
A sap, in treacle, soaring strings,
Was singing that his love for she who'd
Left him wouldn't ever die. Before he
Made me vomit, I reached out and
Pulled his plug.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 19 times
Written on 2011-02-22 at 00:37

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