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discarded poem

by Paul Marino

i rub my wall
and study the back of my hand
and whisper what i wish i'd said
words worded and her words
and when mother mentions how skinny she's become
and in the morning opens all the drawers

09/13/2012

Posted on 09/13/2012
Copyright © 2019 Paul Marino

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 09/13/12 at 04:05 PM

Most of us in life could probably fit a few thousand drawers with discarded poems. It doesn't even matter if we write anything to begin with. Great bit, man.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/11/14 at 12:53 PM

congratulations on POTD. wonderful poem and off the beaten path and it's a good thing the hand has a back, otherwise this ode would have never occurred.

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