Free Verse ReVolution

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

calm before
the medley of substance
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

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

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

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

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2 thoughts on “Alone

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