Bitter things

SadSun

Coffee and teeth the colour of
old love notes on
foolscap

blue lined and boxed beneath
the bed – the bed at 3 this morning
unscented

with spent love garbage uncurbed the
hair wad augmented with dust,
eczema

flakes, toenail tips, human grout in the
space between the wall and the
back

of the toilet mint toothpaste spit
sticky-white on silver bathroom faucets
toast

crumbs sharp as glass on the kitchen
floor strawberry’s blush fuzzed and
speckled

grey the front door closed against
four days straight of rain’s sass
umbrellas

drip, puddles spread unchecked
wet shoes, wet socks, wet hair,
unrefreshed

a book unopened slips off my lap
tepid coffee – me, this poem – remains,
unfinished

the feckless dog’s body sprawled and
eyes rolled back, accuse – or
surrender

– he can’t say, nor will I
it just is, today

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16 thoughts on “Bitter things

  1. Sometimes I find that the tags people put on their posts tell a story of their own. I wasn’t sure how to interpret this piece – until I read the tags. “Meh” and “who cares” made me smile … it’s just one of *those* days 🙂

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