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  • About Me
  • Photo Gallery
  • Writing
    • Poetry
    • Prose
  • Books
  • My Lists
    • Concerts I have seen
  • Hear Me
  • Video of Me
  • Contact
  • Performances
  • Websites I Dig
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YOUR CART

A Tool for My Envy


This morning I danced
on the dirty clothes
of yesterday.

As if to stamp out
the vision of her eyes.
As if to stamp out
the sound of her laugh.

She was a tattered girl,
long in the legs
inked like newspaper.

Time was all together stilled
by the way she moved.
as though her presence
was an accident.

I lingered on her display
for it felt like an event.
A future story for the grandchildren
as you sit sipping cider
in your recliner.

It quickly went
from 10 PM to 2 AM.
and the music faded
into afterbar voices.
And I swear,
the lights came on
and she disappeared.

Just a ghost for my amusement.
A spirited tool for my envy.

At home,
sleep came suddenly.
The alcohol was tucking itself in.
and now morning
is where I dwell.
Somber,
Mystified,
Haunted.

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