Monthly Archives: June 2017

SUMMER SOLSTICE BLUES by Jeffrey Littrell

 

one more sunrise you won’t see

one more poem you’ll never read

another wasted night alone

where you won’t call me on the phone

 

it’s strange to even say your name

it somehow doesn’t sound the same

no mirror reflects your image now

I wish you could return somehow

 

no one rides shotgun in my car

I sit alone now at the bar

when times are hard, when days turn black

I call out, but no one answers back

 

 

 


CHASING SCREAM QUEENS by Jeffrey Littrell

 

go ahead and run

run screaming like Linnea Quigley

from me, the disfigured monster

 

instead, you’ll crawl away

slithering into the brush, to hide

until I’m gone

 

{ The barista at Starbucks asked my name

with resigned apathy. Then, she had the nerve

to draw a smiley face in the froth

of my cappucino. Later that evening,

splashing through the pissing rain,

I rush into a bar off of Mass Ave. 

 

The Starbucks girl is the hostess.

 

“How many ?”, she asks me,

with the same resigned apathy as before.

She has no recollection of me,

or of the damned smiley face that she drew earlier. }

 

go ahead and run

run screaming like Jamie Lee Curtis

from me, the hideous leper

 

instead, you’ll lurk in shadows

listening with rapt attention

until I draw my final breath

 

 

 


Insignificant Other by Jeffrey Littrell

 

it’s sometimes a dismissive glance

or just a cold, hard stare

that breaks apart my self-esteem

laying my emotions bare

 

paths are left untrodden,

I’m perpetually alone

carrying a burden

that weighs heavy, like a stone

 

sunrises come and go, unseen

I sleep, but do not dare to dream

I reach for a hand that isn’t there,

imagining I smell her hair

 

I play my guitar, I don’t know why

my harmonica weeps, it starts to cry

the chords I strum drip sacrificial blood

as dark as a tempest, as deep as a flood

 

 


%d bloggers like this: