The Curtains Hung Out The Window Like An Old Flame
Couldnt tell how many years went by since the war.
We may still be fighting somewhere, hell who knows,
heros have the worste of times.
Well, How have you found me again?
I was almost gone.
I was on the lamb from your laws
I was a free man.
And how you crept in!
with the mint,
with the lemongrass,
with the wild beets.
The morning will never come the same way again.
I dont know why everytime I hear bells I think of you swimming.
I couldnt say why I still want to smash every glass bottle I hold.
or how I still hear you whistling from time to time at crowded bus stops.
How you were able to find me, so young, and now and again still, in the Autumn of youth.
I told said this before your dentures fell into the toilet bowl.
now my car wont start.
I walk past the chapel at noon.
and throw my fifth crashing to my feet,
watching the ants swim in a pool of whiskey.
The army ants will go for nothing but your bones.
There is always war somewhere.
poem by Jerome Moore
Added by Poetry Lover
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