Deep in the Canyon
There are only so many fingers
you can hold up to remind me.
Life was one big emergency then.
Harsh fluorescent lights
seeped through sadness,
illuminating deserted items
that littered the landscape
of two hearts gone awry
& further, why.
We had mistaken time
for opportunity, a frenetic
chase from absence to alibi,
a convenient arrangement
that benefited none,
& was suddenly done.
Three thousand miles,
the plaintive cry of
jilted lovers, stipulations
of bitterness as vanity,
& you claim insanity.
The rollercoaster climbs slowly,
but oh that drop soon arrives,
takes your breath away.
Begging for leniency,
pleas & thank you, indecency.
A faded photo you
show nosy neighbors
when and if they show.
It’s a lonely life now
exploring the hollows
& all that soon follows.
Gary Glauber is a poet, fiction
writer, teacher, and former music journalist. His works have received
multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations. He champions the
underdog to the melodic rhythms of obscure power pop. His two collections, Small
Consolations (Aldrich Press) and Worth the Candle (Five Oaks Press) and a chapbook
Memory Marries Desire (Finishing Line Press) are available through Amazon.
Tags:
Poetry