{ pathetic.org }


by Matthew Zangen

I had more words
for things that lingered
when I was moving,
when I could only speak
of the home that needed breaking
and only twisted.

There isn't enough change in my couch,
enough music to move me
for all the roaring of the highway
she blamed, and left me
more than myself to lose.

I'll find a thing to fix,
some pipe that curls around the tub.
I'll tear it from the wall
and claim it was too old,
not strong enough to hurt me.


Posted on 02/05/2019
Copyright © 2022 Matthew Zangen

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 02/06/19 at 10:21 AM

Love the way this moves and weaves and sounds and plays in the mind and ear.

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