& he's wearing my odd baggy sweater,
talking in a voice I think I know.
Maybe it was someone I brushed into
at the streetcorner buying Donuts
or at the tennis match in the bustle?
Wherever this stranger hails from
he's settled in, my Star Wars mug,
my copy of Nietzche calm in his hand.
& the bed's just not big enough too,
the way he picks at his fingers too,
I want to converse but he shuns me.
This stranger guy is confusing life,
somedays I hatch plans to change locks
then I relent, I'd probably miss him.
BRENDAN CLEARY
From Stranger in the House
http://www.wreckingballpress.com/html/cleary.php
No comments:
Post a Comment