i am listening to coltrane
and waiting for a girl
that may never love me
to swing by
and borrow
some pain killer
for her migraine
and even she
wasn't on her way
i know
i'd be in the same place
as i am now:
restless
with my burning checkbook
with my settling madness
with my old man aches and gripes
without a clue
where to go from here
in this poem.
but at least there
is coltrane
and at least there is a girl
even if she
may never love me
at least there is an end to this poem
which is more than i can say
about anything else in life
11:46 p.m. - 2007-04-09
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
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