Lives Like Landfills by William Taylor Jr.

In spite of promises, oaths
and the best of intentions

I stand but dumbly by

as the hours slip
and spiral out.

She lies on the bed and cries,
she tells me she is broken.

I understand
but don’t know what to do.

I suppose it’s like this
everywhere,

lives like landfills
of disappoints and regrets.

I too wish the days and the hours
were something more than this
gradual decline.

I wish the silent gods
would find new ways
for us to burn.

The day shrugs and gives
itself to the darkness

as I ignore the ringing
of the phone

on my way to the kitchen
in search of more wine.

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