from Monday, November 9th

The frost on my windshield
crusts-over and covers my
car.

I walk outside into the evening

Shaking and shivering, watching
my breath go
with the wind.


-----


The wrinkly old
woman behind the
counter.

counted change from
the register.

And very softly sang
John Melloncamp lyrics
to herself
on a sunny day.


-----


You spew poison from
your slippery mouth.
It rains down on me,
covers me,
until it burns deep
into my throat.

We promised that
we'd never become this,
but somehow,
I always knew you'd
end up this way.


-----


Sorry,
but poetry has escaped me
it left in the morning
before I could say bye.

It's gone

and I don't know
if it will come back.

I guess
we'll try again
next weekend.