saranyan bee


Elegy Overheard Near A Country Tombstone - Poem by saranyan bee

You never call -
you say
our relationship’s ended.

nothing that exists
ends I say, ends not
ever ends.

stamped, stuffed
laid to rest in a pot of
pureed permanence.

like the time, an idea, anything.
anything that existed
be drowned in lakes of turbulence,

remember the way you gasped
for air
first time I touched your breasts,

buried your face
upon my shoulder blades
hearing a beggar whipping himself for alms,

marveled the enormity of cotton candy
at the village fair,
the candy-man marveling your eyes with,

when the cabbie ripped past a sports buzz
in the narrow peopled streets
your laughter ripped the sky like a war-flag,

and you say the laughter isn’t roaming
over the dale
the creek, the fort of Cortez

like a goodwill missionary
over ages of time, vagary
and sublime,

you did the brat-trot
away in a huff
from the sky-roof discothèque,

shrimps I ordered, you love
shone like bracelets stymied in ruby,
coz I failed to blow seven rings

from one puff of Marlborough;
the night I tossed in the bed
on empty stomach

after stretch-hours of arduous love,
because I let you bring home the sodden puppy
we found in the puddle of gully,

anything that live cannot die,
you crooned that day,
anything that lived cannot die,

at home now, see, how on my couch
the fellow finds another cozy place
under our blankets,

so my love,
you keep alive things
not calling me,

see, the guy who’s here with to me,
he gets a bunch of flowers
white, pale white and purple,

the wife brings him
often, so often, I loose count,
here the broken petals

fly over my lonesome waft
hinting whiff of her perfume,
flowers don’t mean anything to me,

you know our relationship does,
I see her arrive, his wife
with nimble fingers,

she irons her skirt down
from the naughtiness of autumn wind,
her feet shuffle in flurry

soused stockings
stretch to hips
like a decorative saber to hilt,

I know not her but her panties well
her face’s covered in black veil -
I know he married her,

I know I never married you,
you know I live
by calling it all dead.


Comments about Elegy Overheard Near A Country Tombstone by saranyan bee

  • (12/18/2011 5:23:00 AM)


    you keep alive many things in the poem...beautiful (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, December 5, 2011

Poem Edited: Monday, December 5, 2011


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