PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

23 - poem

Sunday, Feb. 24, 2002
I wrote this on 10-16-2000 and all of the sudden it’s getting all kinds of attention on a poetry forum…I almost forgot those 23 days. Greg…my artist friend…..online…he changed my writing…changed my thought processes….and is still my friend even now….and I thought he was gone. The reference to “…and the paper is wet….” is a reference to my tears wetting the cigarette I have put into my mouth…to this day when he calls me up randomly right when I hear that sound of his inhale….I smile. I thought he was gone…..my abandonment issue again...and I was wrong...he has remained my friend.

23

And so 23 days
my lifetime flashed
my soul painted color
and so much changed
something happened
to the furniture that
I’ll never take for granted
The cobwebs floating away
And you know that song
I’ll remember you when
I see that disc spin rainbow
When I miss you
On your journeys
I’ll seek that star
I’m trying not
to see goodbye
In my mind or in my eye
I have stood here before
And for the first time I
Stop at 7 eleven
For some smokes
I never before lit a cigarette
How I crave to hear that sound
Of your inhale
The flick of the lighter
And the paper is wet
The boy behind the
Cheap counter knows
Are you ok?
I want to say yes so bad
And today I whispered no




as a side note…

Josh….you really need to control your anger when someone says something you don’t like. I was wrong for what I said...and me and my wet paper bags…well we’re happy together…*shrugs*

1:39 a.m. ::
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