words
a message sent
like a javelin
howling across
the sea
and dead-center
through my mind.

lies
sugar-roasted cow dung,
though only half
as ignorant as the
lies
I told myself
about you.

I don´t buy a
syllable of
your faux-compassion,
but here´s a box
of eye rolls,
on me.

I saw this coming
from an ocean away.
something I
should´ve done
before we got
knee-deep
in muck and
bad, non-Irish luck.

and I´m glad
you folded the legs
of our rusty
card table,
the one that had shone
such a perfect
orange-yellow in all
the summer-long sun.

but for someone
who doesn´t
think he cares,
why are my smile
muscles so numb?
why do I feel rised
to do nothing but walk
under the gray-gloom
cloudy sky?

my body is free,
but my head is taken,
slurping up
all my joy and sun,
and retching this
shit back out.

just give a
wounded man
one last wish.
please shut
your mouth.
(you´ll have to
breathe through
your nose.)

09/24/2009

Author's Note: written 9/19/09. my girlfriend started seeing another guy two weeks after I arrived in Spain for a study abroad. that´s pretty cool.

Posted on 09/24/2009
Copyright © 2024 Eric Hinkle