Tuesday, November 02, 2004

A poem, while I'm waiting

I've been here about...
50 minutes
Now that's ridiculous
And though I've been spinning ideas,
I may have been wasting my time.
If you don't show soon.
This is when a cell phone would come in handy,
You are late
For our un-appointment.
My drop by.
In a year of knowing you,
You have never once dropped by,
That is what I tell myself nights that I leave your place angrily,
And drive home,
With a drive just long enough
To turn my hurt pain into anger into self-righteousness into resolve into
Moving on.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

My cat is made of stardust
It's reflected in her fur
I don't know why
she looks at my with those eyes
but I know that I love her

My cat is made from stardust
You can see it in her eyes
Everytime I touch her back
and hold her paws
Again I realize that

My cat is made from stardust
I have seen it in her face
Wherever she goes as she
journeys the globe
In my heart she'll have a place

My cat is made of stardust
Eistein must be right
'Cuz Toodles is my bloated muse,
she has black-hole energy
and she's my cosmic guiding light

Yeah, my cat came from stardust
and I hope she don't go back soon
First we outta take a little trip
around this here universe
before we end up playing on the moon.

Sonya said...

I am always late

Braidwood said...

Me too! (Well, OFTEN late. :)