She lent me her love for a little bash
And I left a check on the dresser
She said she'd only take cash
Life was better without paper
She gave me an hour
And I used 59 minutes
Smelled like a flower
And she tasted exquisite
And when I was done
She slipped into her heels
Said thanks for the fun
And then I had to feel
She started to walk to the door
I reached out to grab the bottle
Thought about buying a little more
Told her to sit and stay for awhile
Not ready to be alone
Rather pay for the company
And all her pretend moans
Until I run out of money
And when that moment comes
And she's out of my life
I'll find somewhere else to run
To make me feel right
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5 comments:
It is a good poem and again one of its strengths is that the narrator is aware not only of himself but also of the other character in the poem as a human being. Even as it expresses well the impulse to escape oneself through a construct of intimacy and the pain behind wishing to escape oneself, there is a compassion in the poem that takes it beyond one of those Look at My Self Awareness of My Self Destruction Poems. There is an honesty and compassionate understanding of this impulse and a lack of self dramatization that makes this work well. The language is well chosen but it is the sensibility, compassionate honesty and lack of showiness that makes it really work. Sorry I am not expressing myself well. Got to go to work now.
Clearly the words of a villian.
Does the local constabulary know of you?
Joe,
Just wanted you to know that I'm still out there; reading your stuff, still listening and hoping the future you deserve finds you. The Times, Twitter, the occasional blog...I do check in when I can.
Howard
I remember feeling lonely like that. Like a single person on the sinking love boat. Sinking love. You pay someone to help you bail water and then they leave and you are back to sinking again. Being a real friend leads to real love, You leave that sinking ship. You don't invite anyone on board. you just abandon It and move on to stable land, Where love may come or go, but at least you are not using human beings as willing paid receptacles who fake feeling anything. The kind which will be there for you and not charge a dime. Real love ebbs and flows for free. Sorry I know it was just a poem. Just saying. A remarkably human poem which stirred old memories of sinking. You are a great poet Mr.Rambler.
"i put daffodils in my messy hair,
and rub my calloused palms which have
embedded within them the scent of burnt tobacco
like old couches, and charcoal scattered blankets,
and then i pretend that each day doesn't push the sunrise
even farther behind."
Rappel Du Vide
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