Alone

Now I’m alone
and the telephone is
the drone in my living
room, silent
but deadly-

calm before
the medley of substance
abuse,
self-inflicted
bruises and what sounds
like the assembly of awkward
clues leading to
the circumstances of a
fabricated death.

Driving west into
unspoiled sunsets,
I wonder who wrote my obituary and if
they used a spell
check;

who threw out
my bread and found that eighty cents on
the stovetop.

I fought couch
cushions
tooth and
nail to leave a tip for the
Good Samaritan who feels the
imperative to
scrub my
kitchen floors.

ALL PROFITS TO
THE poor, says the note taped to
my front door.

They deserve the
performance of
a lifetime, and that’s what I
gave my life
for.

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14 thoughts on “Alone

  1. I feel as if I’ve just been crucified. This piece…is instantly classic. Why? I don’t know. I just FEEL it… I know that’s lame. Bare with me… As I read through this, I couldn’t help but to be forced to come to grips with mortality, especially treading across this line:

    “I wonder who wrote my obituary and if
    they used a spell
    check;”

    Nicely penned.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love the way you have formed this poem!
    The way it sounds as you read it.
    Quite interesting indeed.
    Favorite – “Driving west into unspoiled sunsets”

    ~N
    —————————————
    Forever lost without reason our minds are our own

    http://ncbek.wordpress.com – check me out!

    Like

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