A Poem, All I Want


The cursor is blinking like her eyelids used to when I used to bid her after a kiss.

The blank page is hungry for words like her when I used to be a rage,

An ill-tempered guy I was and silence I used to prefer.

The computer screen reflects the windows over my head; the yellowish azure burnt–

Late April evening is hazily gray; the warm seasonal air along with system ejaculated–

Heat burning my bare legs harshly but softly like her breath over my naked chest.

A poem I want to soothe the few days old ghost of her.

I suspired as the computer screen black out from time out.

National Poetry Writing Month Day#29: Taking One of the Favorite Poems and Find a Very Specific, Concrete Noun in It.

Mine is  Computer from So You Want To Be a Writer? by Charles Bukowski


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