Apr
26
Ransom of the Exhausted and Confused
Filed Under poetry
I have something of yours.
I found it
on the bathroom sink
between the sheets
waiting in the kitchen
between pages
in the blue satin box next
to the bed where I keep
my vibrators
at the corner of my desk
where I banged my knee
at the bottom of a glass
It usually
looks at me, quietly
snores
waits for a false move
sulks, uncomfortable, like a
late party guest
clasps its hands behind
pretends to be interested
runs fingers over dusty shelves
helps itself to a drink
answers my phone
opens my mail
Sometimes it
becomes irritable
demands free range cordon bleu
wanders around ’til
four in the morning
changes stations, humming
too much like high-tension power
holds a knife to my throat, halfheartedly,
rolling it’s eyes and sweating, only to
forget why in the first place
I
drive it around, trying
to lull it to sleep.
think it’s rather odd
wonder about my health
slip it a mickey
try to treasure it as best I can
wait for you to come get it
I have something of yours.
It signs my name and asks for you
and three hundred dollars and a
helicopter.
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