Plumb Dumb Poem by Ted Sheridan

The wind just blew a paper cup passed my feet
as I walked cold and alone to the corner
My eyes tearing from the wind caught a glimpse
of the lipstick on the end of the straw that protruded
from that noisy rolling cup as it now did circles and tricks
with the gusts that propelled it further from my brisk steps
The street wet with dew and city slime glistened with halos
and streaks of malnourished vaporous light which created
shadows where in the absence of form
scary creatures crawled unrecognized
by this tired and lonely passerby
The sign at the intersection I now faced was missing
leaving me confused as to the direction of my next turn
Only the pole silver in color and covered with the obscenities
of urban decay was left standing
bent over and in half
a positive yet disturbing indication many others before me
had lost their way as they stood on that corner
afraid to cross fearing a mistake may cost them valuable time
on their hurried way to nowhere and to no one
I on the other hand would follow the sounds of the traffic
only blocks beyond my point of confusion and brief rest
As with the next step of my left foot I committed myself
to a course with only those sounds as my compass point
In the distance I now could hear voices muffled by the density
of the night's damp air and I pointed myself in their direction
hoping that I would recognize a familiar building or even
something as simple as a bus stop or a bench
just something of a clue as to my location
in this dark labyrinth of forgotten form
I hurried my pace wishing not to lose the only connection
I had found to intelligent life as it seemed to be on the move
distancing itself even further from me
as I became more confused by my surroundings
and my distorted sense of time
Having walked now for what seemed like hours
though minutes had really passed
Minutes along with that cup with the lipstick stain on the straw
the straw and its indelible mark
had protruded from its crumpled lid
as it circled going nowhere and to no one
as was I with my step now noticeably transformed
by a punctual and trusted fear of losing the only woman
I had ever loved
A woman who had left me hours earlier
wishing not for me to see her cry from all the pain
my embellished ego had damaged
as with my mean and evil words
I stole from her the very love
which my sweet nothings had once crowned her
That now with its darkness
I tried to keep those a particular evil
from casting a shadow on my heart as I looked everywhere
trying to find my love
who had just thrown that paper cup at me as she screamed
'I never want to see you again you lying ahole'
I fear now that unlike me

She does mean every single word she says

©2007 Ted Sheridan