I sit on my side of the bed and watch her
Watch her, watch her
She wears nothing but the fishnet stockings
Nothing, nothing
But that; it was for our anniversary
In this, our cramped, cramped apartment
All splintery floorboards and creaking springs
Creaking, creaking
I hold a cigarette between my fingers, even though I said I’d quit
Smoking, smoking
Her bare chest rises and falls evenly
Rises and falls, rises and falls
She’s tired; and who wouldn’t be; so am I
Tired, tired
I take a draw from the cigarette, looking at the NO SMOKING sign she got me as a joke last year
Ha, Ha
Nobody told it would be this bad; a subway rumbles past
Rumble, rumble
The heat’s busted and so is the AC, so now it’s just cold
Cold, cold
And sticky from what we were doing; she’s tired
So very, very tired
But I can’t sleep; it’s all from the worries
Worry, worry
Will I ever be a father? A good one?
Worry, worry
Will I get the rent on time?
Worry, Worry
What’s my brother doing now?
Worry, worry
And what does she think of all this?
Worry, worry
She’s tired
So very, very tired
And so am I
| Copyright © 2020 by Blake Adamson Blake Adamson is an aspiring writer who has written for fanzine blogs and maintains fandom-related blogs on both Tumblr and Archive of Our Own. He currently lives in Jefferson City, Missouri, with his family while trying to complete a novel or novella-length story, a feat which he compares to passing kidney stones. |
About as powerful, as trance-casting a poem as I have ever read. Maybe the most powerful, most entrancing.
ReplyDeleteAnother excellent piece of work. The repetition works well and the set up of the apartment--you can actually feel the anguish of the wannabee father.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Blake.
Hmm, I hadn’t picked up on any anguish about becoming a father (the possibility that he might not become one), but read the thought as, I guess, more “in passing.” Thanks, Michael, for prompting me to read again!
DeleteI too loved the repetition reminiscent of the old blues men and women repeating the last phrase as if to say 'Hear it well because there's a lot more of that kind of pain going on."
ReplyDeletelike a throbbing forever.
I'm most of all going to miss not reacting live and in person with you and Cory at our monthly poetry read/workshop.
ReplyDeleteBob, have the workshops ended? Have you moved away? Oh, wait! You’re sequestering yourself because of the coronavirus threat, or the workshops have been postponed because of it! Well, anyway, there’s a lot to write about there, for the hoped-for resumption of “normal times.”
DeleteOr are the workshops continuing, but online rather than face-to-face?
Delete