Travis Bowden

Seneca, My Existential Detective - Poem by Travis Bowden

you're sleeping with ghosts and kissing
your pillow. lifing one finger to signal,
dear, Seneca for just one more round.

she says, 'life is a quality,
not a quantity. no man can lose
very much, when only a driblet remains.'

but diet pills blur, with whiskey swills
and you cough up a lung.
and spit it right out.

saying, 'what's breathing for me,
well, it ain't breathing no more.'

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Comments about Seneca, My Existential Detective by Travis Bowden

  • (5/4/2005 1:40:00 AM)

    The rhythm of the first two stanzas is tight. 'you're sleeping with ghosts and kissing / your pillow. lifting one finger to signal, ' especially. I have a question about the third stanza, which loses a little momentum for me - I'll try to send you a poemhunter email.

    I love the last stanza - it catches.

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Read poems about / on: life, lost, sleep, kiss

Poem Submitted: Monday, May 2, 2005

Poem Edited: Monday, May 2, 2005

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