Thursday, May 26, 2022

LYRIC POEM

I do not want to
tell your life story; 
I could take or leave 

convincing you of things 
or clearing up residual 
hurt or confusion.

My aim is to take 
just one minute 
of your day 

and make it 
a little bit sweeter 
to have wasted: 

that peck 
on the cheek, say, 
or that drag off his cigarette—

the pensive tone of the patio music, 
or the best word for that purplest 
last bit of sunset. 

Let cohesion 
and closure sell you 
long-term relationships; 

the succor 
of hiatus 
is the only kind I solicit.