Shirley

Fall 2007

Shirley has been plaguing me much as of late.

I rarely ever dream of him,

But in my waking hours,

The world is lush with memory of him.

It’s true what they say, you know,

About the food and the wine loosing it’s flavor,

And the colors not keeping their vibrancy.

He captivates me still

From miles away,

He summons me

Unknowingly

And I am a fool for him yet again.

 

Shirley is the only one that I think of.

I think of his boldness.

His aggressive mischief

That he reaped so well into me

I think of his summer smile,

The kind that would stop traffic in NY

The kind that I wish I could bottle up

For a rainy day

When he is away

And I know he is like me

He craves the world

And knows most assuridly

That he could have it if he tried

"The world is but a thing, "

he would say to himself,

"A thing which is going to be mine…"

 

Oh Shirley, you haunt me in times like these

When I should be more productive

I sit here and think of things to say

To no one

about you

Because you won’t mark me

You can’t believe my honesty

As it flows like a river

And you aren’t used to being wet

You told me I was a good woman

And you were a rotten man

Was I supposed to run away then?

Or did you know I would face the challenge

This arduous task of thinking I could get through to you.