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The Classics
by Meghan HelmichWhen I wake up too early
and the cats are still asleep at the end of the bed,
I stare at pictures I have yet to take down
until I'm sure you will call to admit
how horrible New York is without me
and the scent of my shampoo.
It's still coconut creme
on the corner of the tub
just below the painting of the jar of lightning bugs
which I'm sure don't exist where you are,
run down by the misty headlights
always moving at high speeds.
You hate the slow Saturday afternoons in this city
when someones grandpa is rolling his
'48 Plymouth down Main street
at the exact same moment you need
to get to the bus station.
I will always remember your white knuckles on the wheel. 10/20/2011 Author's Note: Part 1. Title is questionable.
Posted on 10/20/2011
Copyright © 2024 Meghan Helmich
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 10/20/11 at 07:33 PM I sure hope there's more. The potential is in every line, and the lines on their own are pretty damn good, too. |
| Posted by Sal Haefling on 10/20/11 at 09:14 PM GOD HOW I $#%@ING LOVE YOUR WORDS. Swoon, I'm in love with them. Ah. I cannot wait to put my head into our collaboration. |
| Posted by Lori Blair on 10/21/11 at 08:38 PM That final stanza leaves me as clenched as the steering wheel must be..Excellent!!! |
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