watched the wine glass,

become an ashtray


a conversation with naked space,

kept stampless stationary tucked deep in the drawer


scenes from the past bolded themselves,

spelling out cursive jive I’d forgotten how to decode


fortunately, or maybe unfortunately,

this introspective rant became a fishing expedition without bait


got into Indian style on that mattress,

preyed out loud without yelling


vague shadows appeared along the wall,

I was digging for anything at this point


believing in commercials all of a sudden,

caused me to feel lonelier than I really was


wrote out my Shit To Do List,

realizing that none of my chores involved her anymore


I’d have to find a new dragon to chase,

preferably one with clipped wings this time around


By: Bryan Matthew Boutwell /