Gulliver

Ah, I know this man whose arms
Always ache as if  empty,
And when so,
Cause his eyes 
To stare far into
The bottom of a glass.

Emptied.
He looks at all his memories.
As they stab at him,
Like the warriors
Of Gulliver’s travails.
And the ropes
Seem rather strong.
For the moment.

“Sometimes.
Many times.”
Says he,
” I’m pretty 
Sure.
I’ve written all 
The words
That I 
Can.
I know no more rhymes
Or stories.
Twists of irony or fate.”

As he stares at the ice
Melting
Faster,
Faster now,
In the evening heat.

4 comments

tell me what you think. There's a spot for your name and email, but it isn't necessary when posting a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s