His body twisted,
Searching to escape the stomach pain
That kept him from crawling to the john.
As I watch him,
I experienced the sadness
Of observing a failed experiment.
I was safe from his alcoholism.
While the smell pervaded the tiny room,
I was immune to his suffering.
A lightbulb, suspended on a long wire,
Set the stage for a melodramatic
Second act of a piece of theater.
How many times had Eric performed
This god-damn pathetic scenario,
To be followed by a false brief reprieve?
No comments:
Post a Comment