My Furnace is Busted
Posted to Poetry
by Kristopher on 2003-12-30 00:32:00
Love is that fire in the soul
that keeps us warm in the winters
of despair.
My furnace is busted
I called the landlady but
She has better things to do
Or at least
Better tenants to look after
Her phone must be broken
I call
Never an answer
I leave my messages
My name
Room number
And I ask that she call
Or stop bye
That ringing
Its capable of stealing my mind
I leave my message
And then for a moment
Hang on the receiver
Hoping she heard
Her machine pick up
That desperate ringing
Steals my mind from the inside
But its too cold to be crazy
I just sit alone in this loft
Rubbing my hands together
Hoping for a visit
A call
A breath of warmth
From my broken furnace
