You never came
home last night.
I visited your
favorite haunts.
All full of
dead beat dads,
ghastly clothed
women and
blood sucking
lawyers.
I lingered outside
sipping moonshine-
Bathing in neon
and getting high on
exhaust fumes;
You sunk to a new
low. Suffering from
a case of the
mercedes bends while
trying to surface
from the depths of
your bottom feeding
lies.
Now I sit on our
porch, rocking
away. I envy
the greener
grass next door.
Your empty chair
rests on the
porch, ever since
I sued you for
rocking with
someone else.
i agree with alice your style the way u use words to tell a story which is a poem is remarkable i think i have a favorite poet
Robin, I love, love, loved it. Great poem. TOUCHE. Alice
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Now I sit on our porch, rocking away. I envy the greener grass next door. I love it