Double Parked

Lock myself out, so that you can let me in.

We spindle conversation around familiar

interior.   That old sentiment still lingers

with the cigarette smoke trailing the air,

wafting over masks, collages of your mother,

and various Tibetan skulls encased in gold and jewels.

 

We tread new territories with the devil guiding us

 in details.   My drunken honesty spills itself

unremorsefully, while you cast long shadows

and I refute doubt plagued in paused explanations.

 

The night sobers up and the sun clings against

the blinds from the incoming breeze,  occasionally dappling in,

reminding me to watch the clock.  No sooner are we content

than interrupted by the chatter of children, followed by

unannounced house guests who have no intention

of leaving before suffocating the room into stark

silence and sneering reluctance. 

 

We whisper into shoulders, behind the veil of the

kitchen wall, you are throwing hazard flag onto the table,

best to leave now.  I agree, knowingly.  You are left, patience

idling, listening to alpha females in belligerent conversation.

 

I stand and leave abruptly, followed by your selfish

past that refuses to exit.  The door makes its metallic

brush back into place with the turn of the lock.  I am

on the sidewalk, passing the children.   One girl is crying and

two boys are apologizing for playing too rough; she simmers

down.  I pace the front walk, glaring at the car double parked

behind yours,

waiting for my ride back home.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Kenny L. Mitchell]

You know..Langston Hughes did a lot of what you're doing as well. To paint a vivid picture (using words) of landscapes and scenery from the life he viewed. LIke Langston your words are bright & vibrant. They are also used to create a sense of realism that stretches beyond the boundaries of those words. Sweet!

[cest la vie]

Excellent writing here:)

[Jibey]

A sad depiction of a strained relationship, with lots of vivid detail in the tawdry elements of existence that prop up the scene

[Fabian G. Franklin]

"who have no intention

of leaving before suffocating the room into stark

silence and sneering reluctance. "

I loved that! Some great word choices in this, very evocative of mood.

[Ed Hart]

You spread your wings and fly through dark places; but it's a winged flight nevertheless...