Specks of Dirt
Using a safety pin,
I pick out
Specks of dirt
From underneath my fingernails.
To make sure
I am alone.
To make sure
I still need her.
There are more productive things to do
“Yes, I am drunk.”
“Yes, I am next to air.”
Still I answer.
The promises in her speech
Collect inside my skull
Like specks of dirt
Underneath my fingernails.
After she hangs up,
I use a safety pin
To clean my brain.
A.j. Binash's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Specks of Dirt by A.j. Binash )
- Sheep of yesterday, today and ever..., veeraiyah subbulakshmi
- Money plays, hasmukh amathalal
- Thinking's Mates, michael walkerjohn
- translate button on blouse, Havilah
- BEAUTY, BUT NOT BEAUTIFUL, G. AKANJI OLANIYI
- Beauty Of Song, Eve Carter
- WHINING FAITH, G. AKANJI OLANIYI
- Savoring Music, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Integrity, Hans Raj Sharma
- In The Bosom of The Fire Is The Mystery, Little Eagle McGowan
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- "Hope" is the thing with feathers, Emily Dickinson
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)