countertop

by ellipsis

Posted to Action Poetry on 2004-06-11 07:57:00

Parent message is 661164
doorways were made for
exiting this fallacy and
countertops were made for
counting the falls; i stand
and wait
and shuffle back and forth and
murmur little sounds of
recollection, introspection,
glances across the glass we
smear when we ask for
your last
fucking
dime.
and i don’t know how to rhyme
but this countertop is still here,
separating requests from requests for
“just one more slice of silence” and
i stammer, no, falter, no, stammer
bits and pieces of the line ahead
when i count the eyes that ask me
for my last
fucking
time.
it never was mine
and even when i step up and ask
whether there ever was a finished product,
i’ve somehow closed my eyes
and drifted away.