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| Open Poetry #47 |
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Requiescat |
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Huan Yi Member Ascendant
since 2004-10-12
Posts 6688Waukegan 
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. Late to the funeral I can only stand and listen To who’s not here Art poetry . . . I can see By your face you have no idea Of what I am talking about I might as well be speaking In Mandarin or ancient Japanese This awkward attempt at how it was Simply and finally fails because It’s wholly impossible to recognize Who I loved by what you say I hear there’s a restaurant In the town nearby Let’s go there And drown incoherence in cheap Chablis No I don’t care what soap is playing As your current history The sun has set On the quiet sea . |
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| © Copyright 2011 John Pawlik - All Rights Reserved | |||
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
In other words . . . Last chance. ~ I went to a restaurant that serves "breakfast at any time" / I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance. ~ |
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dreamgal Member
since 2011-03-17
Posts 442 |
A tragic love lost. A little to little to Late. Enjoyed, as i always enjoy your work. Dreamgal |
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