leaves: an old poem

  • if i could write you a final memo,

    i'd include the names of all the places

    i almost saw with you.

    i'd add the post script to explain the scalding ache

    of a lover's silence.

    i'd send it right before the morning dew set in.

    it's not that i am particularly adept

    at facing the pathetic madness in this world.

    but rather that it's the same madness

    that is revealed again and again.

    the only difference is that it's amplified each and ever time.

    as i wait patiently for the fatal, telling blow,

    i smile because i have lost a war

    with no sides.

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