Back
to main episode
Poem Seventy-nine
she names me coward
but all she knows are these streets
and these logos
I use my weasel words to escape
notice
and only strike
when I'm drowning
it's all going gone
sitting in the yellow grass
where the band shell once stood
but I refuse to use
her name
just as she refuses meaning
we were spotted one
wet morning
rain off the Strait
she lied to me
and in return I disguised my scars
I minced my words
and I kept the remains
in my back pocket
wrapped in bits of paper
June 7, 2007