Just Right Poem by Charles Malcolm
Just Right
It's just right.
That my lovers hate me.
Avocados on sale.
Them dancing.
Weak belts.
It's just right.
Alone.
Cold legs.
Sad movies
and cheap whiskey.
I'd be livid
were I unlived
but I smirk at the thought
of them and this place over the hill
taking me raging into that good night
and it is just
right.
Monday, November 2, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: death,love
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4/26/2024 8:48:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
