A Pull of Face, of Beer

(I pulled on a beer;

a drop escaped, dripped through beard,

down chest, to

a keyhole inlaid):

a fade

across the paper of a poem

written way before I was born

by a hurt man

 

I

t           was real and framed

stabbed to a wall

 

S

a

i

d          clearly,

hours made

like sand drained

into a pretty girl’s heart

 

S

o          small

 

She weighed 87 pounds

 

I used to pick her up

hold her above the ground

 

S

h

e          used to let me hold her above my head for

 

so long.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s