Saturday, July 10, 2010

Tom

Pushing against these four walls.
Pushingggggg.
Screaming. Screaming. screaming.
In my head.
And then. Then. Why not?
Laughter outside the windows…
Music permeating the walls -
Boys night. 3am.
Boys morning?
Beer bottles. High fives. Chuck Taylors and red t-shirts.
Boys night with no boys. Only men.
Men. Boys. Boys. Men. Men with thinning hair. Big ears. Fat thumbs.
Shattered dreams and wandering eyes.
I watch, squinting, between closed blinds. Dark room. Sleeping family.
Hooray for boys! Men. Boys.
I wonder about the conversation. What they are laughing about?
What? Who?
Oh yes...voyeurism.
Laughter.
Laughter…
Men.
High fives. Red t-shirts.
His son, dead…
Not in on the joke.

2 comments:

  1. WOW! This poem is amazing and fascinating. I really loved the rhythm of it. And the ending is just...wow! It reminds me of Glen North's discussion with us. LOVE IT!!!!

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  2. thank you, my dear. I'm exploring poetry for the first time in years. kind of fun!

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