where the hell is that breeze coming from?

by Gabriel Ricard

“I’ve been better,” she said.

Four days in this flea market,
and I think the fluorescent lights
were starting to seriously fuck
with my appetite, my dirty skin,
my lucky fingernails, and my ability
to appreciate,
but not worship,
complicated hallucinations.

But I was still happy to see a friendly face,
and I didn’t want to ask her about the bruises,
the missing eye,
or the fact that she never did pick me up
at the station.

But give me ten years,
and I can let go of most things.

I can wish my father well.
I can show up for that one wedding clean-shaven.
I can love someone, who has every right not to love me back.

“How have you been?”

The other shoppers were Moses strong,
and I could feel my tongue getting hot again.

I looked at her.
I couldn’t remember.
I lied.


Posted on 08/20/2013
Copyright © 2022 Gabriel Ricard

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/21/13 at 03:56 AM

Ha! Some pretty amusing disconnects in this one. I loved the "Moses strong" line, and the tongue heating up.

Return to the Previous Page

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2022 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)