Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Melanie Browne- A Poem


No room to swing a cat in here

is what
The old salt 
sitting in
the greasy booth
at Dennys
howls to his
land-lubber 
pajama- clad
girlfriend,
'pipe down 
old timer'
she says,
both of them
groggy 
from walking
the gangplank
of life
&  tired
of riding 
ghost ships
that carry
them from
one wake
to another-
'if you're so
tired
of me just
throw me to 
a pack of 
wolves,'
he squeals,
"ok" she says
taking a
long gulp 
of her
coffee
 
 

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