alone in a room
Alone in my room
Pling, pling, and pling again from my phone
I ignore the sound, but it has
broken the poem I was trying to write
a fragmented poem
in a thousand pieces like a vase dropped
on a cold stone floor
Never mind!
WordPress tells me I have written over
3000 pieces, over the years
I spend Time editing poems I wrote in
2008, when I was at my best
relatively young with a hope of success
They are there, unpublished
accusing me of letting them down
Do you not love us anymore?
Yes, I do, but a few other does
Like having an eccentric girlfriend
and rude people asking, How can you
Go out with her?
I think this is disrespectful, besides
Odd women are good in bed
and interested in other things than
how they look.
I have tentatively tried to be published
money changes hands, I hear no more
except for the echo of laughter
This is easy money.
My poem, or little stories, I will continue
to edit, they have become cherished
friends
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