Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

he loves you more after you’ve walked out the door

he hides his m.c. escher painting
behind his coat rack
embarrassed by it’s presence
and his own appreciation
for walking up and down stairwells
to nowhere
in the same endless pattern

he never wears a watch
though he owns several
they are rendered useless because
in his mind
it’s always
the same time of day

following his own tracks through the snow
how he loves to go down the shore
to ride the not-very-merry-go-round
then later
he sifts the sand
for parts of women
to recreate the dynamic
of his uncaring mother

he only knows how to feel
the loss of a woman

his perpetual bride of frankenstein
each new face twisted
into a monster of his own creation

oh the lengths to which he will travel
to see you run screaming into a cold night

crying out to a negligent god in heaven
and everyone else at the red sox game

the world has failed to love him

but it is precisely love
he never learned how to receive

Leave a Reply