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Click hereOf course he is disappointed.
The job, yes that job
the one I wasn't invited to
fell through, and now he's stuck
and probably thinking
that I can't hear him complain
how tedious we have become
and he must have forgotten
how thin the walls are
and that the volume
on the phone is turned up to four
because he says he can't hear
all that good anymore
but he hears the tap-tapping
of my keyboard at midnight
from three rooms away
so I steal minutes here
hours there, hoping
that He will stop by to say
Hello, My pet
type quietly, but stay.
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 37,500 poems.
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I felt the passion, of no passion <grin in your pen (~_~) nice write~