Waiting it out in Newburyport
My tie wants to strangle me and
My suit coat is a threat to decency
Parked on a creaking town hall bench
As old as 1851
A wall of long dead town fathers
Behind a curtain of sepia tones
A wall of long dead young men
Blown apart in all the great wars
Ceiling fans circulate the breath of
Yellow record keepers
Pushing down floorboards
On muffled feet
The common council room occupies
The acoustics of the water committee
And their paper scrolls and pleas
Mimeographed flyers flap
On corkboards
My coat hangs in the hall
Like an invisible traitor
Someone rubber stamps
Something
My neck hurts from being still
So much time here
And all of it
Wasted
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2 comments:
I guess this is going to be a daily thing?
I like this one, too - you are truly talented, my friend!
Terrific Andre! I didn't expect so many updates so soon. Very exciting.
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