An Old Love Encountered in a Parking Lot

We've both become ridiculous. I think that
That is fair to say. You used to be a beauty,
And I was a handsome man. How people
Use to stare us when we were going down
The street, my arm upon your glossy skin,
Your subtle curves and husky voice the stuff
That made the adolescent boys wish they
Were me. And now? Well look; I have no hair.
My face is lined, and, though I dress as if
I still was seventeen, I have to try to hold
My gut. I pant each time I walk. And,
Jesus, what's become of you? You're not
A beauty. You're a tart. You ride on
Giant, flashy wheels. You're painted
Pink with purple stripes , and someone's
Given you a wing. A wing! I wouldn't
Want to take you anywhere the way you
Are, but I suppose, if you could choose,
You wouldn't go with me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 18 times
Written on 2011-04-30 at 14:34

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