Tag Archives: the old man

More poetry

It’s just flowing out of me, these days. Let’s see here:

i sit all day in this apartment we used to share

shitting, hurting myself

wondering when my

goddamn boxes will finally fill

the side of the closet that was yours

so i ran into

or rather, noticed across the street

the same old man yelling at the same tree.

he has his fans, the old man

clothes falling off him

he attracts them like flies

things too well put together

ready to fall apart out of their tight little boxes

everyone feels the pull to comment; they all want to own him in some way

i want to own him in some way, his wrinkles

neither of these poems have anything directly to do with anything happening in my life right now; or maybe they have *everything* to do

©2007 joseph walter lindsey

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