PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I could no more save you from
falling into the outbound lane
(stumbling, slipping, driving)
than I could save you from
that awful painting you made by the blue lake you'd never swim in
of two apples and a pear. I could not save
a lion from a mosquito
and though I waited for you
my legs have always been the type for
inaction, then action
addicted to picking up the pieces of other men
there is no more even metered sound of rainfall
than of a basket spilling over. I am so cruel to you. You light my life
with the cigarette that you've burned through yours with.
I cannot save sandcastles. You were always moving away
from what this was, there is no home I can build between my legs
comfortable enough to away in. Let's smile
at the paint we've gotten on each other
I think of your memories as band-aids
left on a little longer just to look at.