are we not just
bouncing around in a great rubber inferno
occasionally colliding with one another
until one of us breaks?
i dangle from the ceiling fan
the light has burned out, the walls are closing in
the air is getting thinner
all this time i had thought you would rescue me
but you never showed
i have no superhero
to cut me down
it’s the same old fucking ritual i have come to expect
except
you forgot to light the candles this time
i forgot to sign my name
those dried flowers were probably used as kindling long ago
while you continue to obsess
about whether or not you can still fit into your prom dress
with swinging hips like a skydiving elvis
you rewrote my bible
you taught me there is
no such thing as love without consequence
you so badly broke my heart the scars
will never heal
i even neglect to correct my typos
i conveniently overlook cleaning the
champagne flutes out of the fireplace
the broken glass scattered in that corner of the living room
and cut our feet after the glass burst in the flames
but our marionettes shrugged it off as
a necessary angst
i was picking glass bits out of the
scowling bearskin rug
all day the next day
all day today, as a matter of fact
does this make you happy?
does it?
because deep down
it’s all vagrant
twenty years from now you will still be with him
with your spawn tugging at your pant leg
while you continue to lament that you no longer
can fit into your wedding gown
and i will still be hanging here
waiting
for my superhero to show
A great poem, Jake, a lovely group of poems today, but this one is touching!
I don't know about anybody else, but this reminded me of a Faulkner stream of consciouness. Like the line, 'you so badly broke my heart the scars / won't heal.' I would of broken that line off with the word 'heart, ' but you just kept on going, as if a pause was not needed. I think that takes a certain boldness, to make it work in the end.
'with hips like a skydiving elvis', a bit jealous I didnt come up with that line. Good work.
Well this is just very well done. An even-tempered and barely concealed anger combined with an atmospheric feeling of time passing in the form of dresses that no longer fit. Terrific title too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent AJ, A forrage amonst the low points of relationships, in which, as I understand it, we sometimes tend to forget other things outside of 'us'. The structure is excellent and seems to portray indeciviness and irritation as if they were one and the same thing, inducing apathy. Though I would not think that apathy played any part in this compositition. Many regards Denis Joe