Leah Ayliffe

Gold Star - 6,116 Points (June 8,1991 / Toronto)

Trashed Thursday - Poem by Leah Ayliffe

The high of the day keeps me warm
Windows down driving my dads black Cadillac, feeling free
Wind in my hair, radio on, screaming with laughter
'Cause I finally understand something in some way or another.
Cigarette reflecting in the side mirror, Cobain singing about how he sold the world
And the happiness is real for a time.
The minutes that pass on the road fast along barren fields,
I didn’t even think of all the noise I’m used to thinking about,
Like all of them and their pretty absences.
The happiness is real for a time,
Talking on the phone with an old friend who tells the boss I am something special to consider,
Isn't she wonderful?
Drinking and laughing at the table with familiar faces,
when I should be busy getting tired on the job,
until the hours tick away to silence and the television is turned up loud.
I can hear their tension all the way upstairs as I sit in the kitchen,
Back door open, I sit down feet resting on the patio step, lost in thought with the stars.
Are we made of the same stars?
Cigarettes and beer and Lana Del Rey as the night kept on,
Getting trashed on a Thursday waiting on a new tune, believing in a new song.

Topic(s) of this poem: freedom


Comments about Trashed Thursday by Leah Ayliffe

  • Daniel Brick (11/12/2015 10:59:00 PM)


    You identified freedom as this poem's topic but it's not an outright celebration of freedom. It strikes me as the times spent in between bouts of freedom. When you are not necessarily exercising it i even feeling it stretch your emotions. I guess even freedom has to sleep sometimes and dream up new energy. The closing image of you sitting under the stars, half-thinking, half-drifting, in a mood of anticipation seems very appropriate and honest to yourself. It's a long-held moment that is gathering momentum for what's to come. The two closing phrases - WAITING FOR A NEW TUNE and BELIEVING IN A NEW SONG - sound at first to be identical, but I now think there is a subtle distinction in these two music metaphors. I can't put it in words yet, but there is a double layer of experience being evoked. future experiences which are related but not identical. TUNE/SONG//WAITING/BELIEVING - there is a subtle difference time will reveal, or your thoughts under the stars, alone and expectant. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, November 5, 2015



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