shadow play

/ grumpygorman

i spy..

cars as big
as flies-

a swarming sea
of buggy
eyes

and I’ve but one
reply-

SHOO!

and to no real
surprise..

these days, my texts
get few replies,

and i can’t
blame
you.

pixabay


/ grumpygorman

alas, i can’t spar
darling..

not in a state
like this-

i’m the tilting
tower..

not vine scaling
prince-

summon
still..

i’ll come running
like peasant
to your
sill-

for
sweetheart..

i can’t take
a hint.

Pixabay


/ grumpygorman

a passion, poisoned-
must spit to
get it
out-

tame desires turned
dangerous,

be
predictable..

or
courageous?

pixabay
/ grumpygorman

dreamt of chicago
again,

with red
pen-

crossing off
blues,

but will chicago
dream of
me?

“sorry, man..” croons
on sufjan,

that letter, never mailed .

to sweetheart of
white veil,

i rue in cab
she’d..

dare not
hail

through these
shards of
town,

but chicago follwed
me home
so..

I’d not sleep
alone.

Pixabay
/ grumpygorman

dear martyr,
don’t..

be swallowed by
the bulls’
rush-

your safe passage
factors
too,

that crimson cape
tells its age

and I’d hate to watch
the hoard..

consume
you-

hand out in sea
of need..

no soul left to
rescue.

pixabay
/ grumpygorman

sorted out
of order,

years unpacked-
arranged backwards,

stumbling through
my clutter..

sheathing blunted
box cutter.

pixabay
/ grumpygorman

morning feels
seperate from day,

any meaning left
in saying?

heart’s not in it
but let’s
play..

can’t shower off
a brain,

standing stunned
in artificial
rains–

won’t chase sorrow
down the
drain..

sick of stale rhymes
ranyway.

pixabay