you remember the time you dragged my ass
half-asleep at the wheel
across the continent to, ostensibly,
home? It sure looked nice from here,
back then, and now I've got a sense
it either never fit, or
has since been outgrown. But
it's no fault of yours. We
know. I have you to thank
for that. Dear, do
you know how much it hurt
my tailbone, falling seated vertically
drunk down half your whole staircase,
not spilling a drop (as mentioned
in my previous letter) of the martini
you made me shake? I've gone stir
crazy since you kicked me out of
that cozy-little prison of a house
of yours, and I like 'em dirty,
too. Grey goose, for you
as I recall. But I've gone to gin.
have two such mutually-incipient
alcoholics ever been so well-
fit as friends, so damn raring
to begin, so well done by the end,
burnt through, to a finely-turned
crisp, and so ill-suited all the way
through and not known it, yet never
once, have two such people us that
sobered up so fast.
As a matter of fact,
I believe I'll have another but,
that belief can't last. Dear, you
the only one I ever cheated,
well that sucks. I'm going to start
another one to you and shuffle it
up. It may already be up there, written
out of order. You'll never be any wiser,
anyhow. The worst part is
to feel so violated! Dear, you
, despite the actress that you
so are, were probably the pick
of the bunch. Let's do lunch
again, like we mean it this time.
Scene. Curtain. Call me. Ah,
I'm just kidding. You would
anyhow. You're always there,
on the phone telling me some
new drama unfolding. And I
am always hanging on, you know.
Rapt. So be it. Let it be, so Dear,
best of all.
You know who I mean.
I mean, you know who
you are. Need I say
for everything, dear.
I must have left you out
of the last letter. You didn't
count. Still don't.
Ow, that's cold. Dear,
did you know when you left me
so cold? It's okay,
my jacket always looked so much warmer
on you. Keep it. It's
must forgive me for all that crap
about the jewelry that time. It was just,
you know. A ring. Dear,
we must go now.
You, go on. Away
from me. I will keep
the ghost of who you never
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
Try the RANDOM button, to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.