Digging through the trash bin: poetry blogging, Take 1

Oh, what the hell. Like a couple commenters said, it’s not like I get paid for this or anything, and I’ve always felt I have a target audience of two: me and Kevin, who can pull the plug on me any time he likes. But I’m gonna (metaphorically) push him aside and go for some plain, old-fashioned self-indulgence here.

I first wrote this piece about 15 years ago, but I can’t find a copy handy, so I’m re-creating it from memory and taking the opportunity to update it in a couple of places.

J.

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Give And Take

The lock snicked open.
She entered the room in silence
And began.

She took her clothes from the dresser,
Her CDs from the rack,
Her toothbrush from the bathroom,
Her Diet Coke from the fridge,
Her crackers from the cabinet.
Then she turned to leave.

A knot clenched my throat.
Not anger, not sadness,
Not guilt, not fear,
But a feeling I did not recognize
And could not describe.
But I forced her name past the knot.

She stopped.

She turned to face me,
Met my eyes,
Then took her key off the ring
And clinked it on the counter.

She turned and left.

I sat alone in the growing dark,
Staring at the key.

JGT

Girls gone wild, Massachusetts style
The Shoe's On The Other Foot

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