talking
through static
for hours
about life
about love
the past
the future
everything
and nothing at all
of all
we could do
with the time
there is nothing
better
than this
(D. James)
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Tag Archives: talking
dunno
so much
I don’t
understand
used to think
I knew everything
or could
at least
fake it
now
I don’t know
is often
my answer
but I’ll make something up
if it makes you feel better
(D. James)
searching for dreams (don’t do no good in the real world)
in bed
curled around
her sleeping self
I think
this is what
I’ve always
wanted
to whisper
in an ear
that she’s
my one
and only one
but I don’t
realizing
that’s not me
that’s not her
it’s just an idea
in my head
from a song
Taupin wrote
about one of his
ex-wives
and what
does that
tell you
(D. James)
calling
phone calls
text messages
and no one
gets back
what to do
feeling disconnected
feeling like no one’s
out there
feeling like no one
wants me
it’s only a thought
they’re all just busy
right now
in an hour
everyone
will call back
at once
and I’ll have
3 voice mails
and 5 text
messages
while trying
to get through
to my sister
in Tucson
to say
I love you
(D. James)
down day
Thinking
of giving up
packing it in
leaving
Always looking
for support
someone to prop me up
or just lean me
against a wall
Feeling like
it’s never
gonna be enough
Swimming
in a pool
of self-pity
not wanting
to take
responsibility
wondering how
everyone else
seems to do it
so why
can’t I
(D. James)
the last poet
When the night
is over
and the final
cigarette
has been smoked
what will
the last poet
say
After all
the evoked emotion
failed relationships
dead boyfriends
abortions
abusive parents
drugs and alcohol
laughter
and pain
have been spilled
out
in some cases
artfully vomited
what could
this last poet
have to say
How to summarize
this night
these words
life sentences
bad grammar
poetic license
driven to excess
How to follow
the girl who told
of losing all her hair
the guy who
crashed his car
the gay biker
who longs
to be dominated
by a she-wolf
of the SS
the boy
who lost
his virginity
so late
the girl
who lost hers
so early
the words
of so many
who want change
yet stay
right where they are
What can this last
motherfucker
have to say
that can top the
triumphs
tragedies
surprises
sorrows
What will
the last poet
leave us with
as we file
out of this
basement grotto
into the light
of dawn
Do we expect
too much
as he steps to the microphone
the crowd
too drunk
to hush
even the white
of the spot light
seems a bit dingy
as he steps into it’s shaft
The last poet
will speak the
last poem
and we will leave
to sleep it off
Whatever he says
will be the final word
so our expectations
are far too high
The last poet
poor fucker
has nowhere to go
but down
unless he’s more genius
than genius itself
more brilliant
than all of us
The last poet
clears his throat
touches his lips
to the mic
the wait
has us spellbound
and half-hopeful
Even so
when we wake
in the afternoon
hungover and
full of piss
will we remember
any of this
(D. James)
at the end
We said
“you don’t
understand”
to each other
until we didn’t
then we weren’t
anymore
(D. James)
