The Writer Grows Frustrated and Decides to Have a Cigarette on the Balcony Despite the Cold February Night

21 Jul

———–

The Writer Grows Frustrated and Decides to Have a Cigarette on the Balcony Despite the Cold February Night

 

released by the past

before it was my time

before I was quite ready

careful not to

drop ashes in your whiskey glass,

she said

each step must be a cautious one

because, like Jean, you are much too sweet to live;

you break far too easily

to not be deemed obsolete

The cigarette helps, the writer thinks

and the soft, remaining magic

of the oncoming morn over a poor neighborhood:

all of it unseen by the pulpy softcover on her bureau

because my magic is something different

because she walks naked for no one there right now

at least no one that I know

she,

the missing audience I write for,

Her –

the one with the capital ‘H’

and many, many masks

that she does not see fit to hide from any

———-

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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