I Wasn’t Trying To Be Funny
She was packing up her belongings, my woman of 3 years
or should I say ex-woman.
I was standing quietly in the sunshine that poured through
the screen of my front door with my shades on.
‘you look strange, are you ok?’ she asked knowing the answer.
‘I’m ok.’ I lied
‘just thinking about my next move.’
she laughed and quickly tried to hide the expression.
I found it painfully depressing that I could still make her laugh
even as she was leaving me.
_________________
Like Balloons On The Brink Of Bursting
breasts like balloons on the brink of bursting.
a yellow and black checkered blouse
laid on her lovely mounds of flesh
like a perfectly ironed table cloth.
i watched them rise and fall with her breathe
for 10 minutes, until she caught me in the act.
then i wrote this poem as she walked away.
deuce coupe 