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cleaned out
by Lauren Singeri have nothing to say of rosebuds,
arbitrary syllables,
summer nights.
i left the party.
i went home early to do nothing.
sit in front of the fan,
watch my breasts heave
in their nudity
of this room with
no one watching.
there is nothing left
of all that fondness
of sugar-wines and my ringed fingers.
stale bread in the morning
and the crumbs left on the counter
are not romantic anymore.
it's just me now, in this empty room
of boxes, the tarnished coins,
the rainboots on their sides against the suitcase.
i am leaving, oh lord, i am leaving for good this time.
finally there will be no home
for this restless body
who never even meant to stay. 06/11/2008 Posted on 06/12/2008
Copyright © 2024 Lauren Singer
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ken Harnisch on 06/12/08 at 03:54 AM I read on and on, turning the pages of your poetry, caught up in the cyclone of emotions I remember visiting in another day, yet still wince at, seeing how vividly they live in your words. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 06/12/08 at 02:48 PM Nicely done! Sometimes we just have to start over. It's not easy but at times it is the only way. Been there done that. |
| Posted by Anya Kaats on 11/20/08 at 09:49 AM this is so engaging. and painful. an realistic. |
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