I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
her long red hair before my bedroom
mirror.
she pulls her hair up and
piles it on top of her head-
she lets her eyes look at
my eyes-
then she drops her hair and
lets it fall down in front of her face.
we go to bed and I hold her
speechlessly from the back
my arm around her neck
I touch her wrists and hands
feel up to
her elbows
no further.
she gets up.
this is it, she says,
this will do. well,
I'm going.
I get up and walk her
to the door
just as she leaves
she says,
I want you to buy me
some high-heeled shoes
with tall thin spikes,
black high-heeled shoes.
no, I want them
red.
I watch her walk down the cement walk
under the trees
she walks all right and
as the pointsettas drip in the sun
I close the door.
Who has endured these sorts of endings that never end can understand this poem. I like it!
This poem is fun and amazing. Thank you for bringing such art into our lives. May your soul rest in peace
Great poem from the guy who once said, ' Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.'. I guess he has a point!
It's hard to describe this poem - dramatic? Kind of reminded me of Robert Browning's Porphyria's Lover - the famous dramatic monologue!
I want you to buy me some high-heeled shoes with tall thin spikes, black high-heeled shoes. no, I want them red... very fine poem. tony
'I watch her walk down the cement walk under the trees She walks all right...' You killed it, your expressions leaves a lasting impression.
I touch her wrists and hands feel up to her elbows no further. she gets up...// so loving expression
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I-want, I-want-Charles-In-Charge-of-me