Disconnect
A
sleek cell phone
dials
her wrong number
till
I guess right.
The
vacuum she left me
to
feel invisible in
never
lifts for long.
Flashbacks
in stasis
recall
her in shadows
where
I found her lost,
We
shared love's illusion
while
others wanted casual
but
her pride said no.
Then
a bad marriage
a
three-day honeymoon
and
weekend divorce.
Tonight,
she entertains
another
certain to leave her
before
the candle dies.
I
hear his laughter
as
she hangs up phone
while
I wish both harm.
Until
I find a bar
for
broken men
nothing
will make whole.
8
whiskey shots
buying
rounds on credit
like
fading old fighters
Later
I will walk
home
in a spell
broken
by police sirens.
Just
one block
from
where I live
Yet
jail seems closer.
Sting of Summer
Uninvited
heat
wakes
me each day
with
its torturous reach
leaving
shadows on
a
broken air conditioner.
Her
last goodbye
rewinding
like a top
going
backwards with
the
spin it was
all
for the better.
Yet
I miss the warmth
of
us dancing close
in
loud and liquid ballrooms
envied
by those sweating
towards
a missed perfection.
5th
day in row
over
ninety-five degrees
the
shade as unsparing
I
miss her being close
and games we played with ice.
Artificial Sweetener
Unwritten
exceptions
undermined
escapes
our
novel approach.
Tactical
engagement
of
unspent collateral
in
linear non-speak.
Suggestion
surrenders
impulses
as electrical
discarded
warnings.
Uninvited
in
my own body
I
want yours.
Trying
to be human
in
this android factory of
dazzling
spare parts..
Immobile
until
inertia
surrenders
remote
possibilities
Love
becomes
a
tempting commodity
others
manufacture.
We
take our places
In
the assembly line
the
latest models.
Testing
love as placebo
an artificial sweetener
we’re
both devoured by.
Tubular
Overwrought
your
a special kind
of
fragile tonight
hallowed
out and all
recognition
is void/ lips numb
mascara
slow motion runs
to
your faint blush a lie
while
Don't and Not
imbalance
attempts to converse
each
a pivot timed to look away
and
escape it all .
I
confiscate your pills
take
a few /hide the others
I
can't leave you or stay here.
manic
past reason.
You’re
a threat to others
stalking
empty space like
It
has any answers.
in
the next room I wait
arms
outstretched while
outsourcing emotion
waiting
for your drugs
To
obscure, eclipse, pass
&
no longer reach you
where
our future is hiding.
Tender Bruises
Her
gold ankle bracelet
advertised
fetish work
that
would cost more
than
it would hurt.
We
do lunch
2
dinners
and
drinks
then
more libations
in
one night.
When
the sun comes up
we
are beautiful in the sunlight
but
also naked at the beach.
With tender bruises we only
partly
remember...
the
police asking many questions.
Rp Verlaine lives and writes in New York City. He has an MFA in creative writing from City College and taught English in New York public schools until he retired. His first volume of poetry, Damaged by Dames & Drinking, was published in 2017 and a second collection, Femme Fatales Movie Starlets & Rockers, in 2018. A set of three e books titled, Lies From The Autobiography 1-3 followed in years 2018-2020.
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