You felt like you stole the morning.
Drove it like you stole it.
Saturday morning with windows down.
Free from obligations.
On your way for non-medical cures,
An entity gave you the stolen day,
but it only lasted for three minutes.
Someone held a hand out.
You couldn’t grab the fucking thing,
So here you are,
wishing you could run in the yard
in your plaid gray,
black and white PJ’s, smoking your cigar,
smelling the moist bird shit,
knowing that some day you won’t need
to steal it.
You have had more desperate Saturdays.
-
Follow
Following
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
stillfugue 
#1 by Life: Between the lines on April 13, 2011 - 9:57 am
ah! the joys of time to self and for self, sad when it is taken away grr 😦 I like!
#2 by Carl on April 13, 2011 - 9:09 pm
Thank you so much for your comment!
#3 by glitteringsootonhereyelashes on April 13, 2011 - 12:40 pm
oh wow. interesting. sad and angry at the same time. i especially like the lines “An entity gave you the stolen day / but it only lasted for three minutes.”
pretty despairing poem xx
#4 by Carl on April 13, 2011 - 9:10 pm
Thank you for your comment. I appreciate it. It was a fairly despondent slice of time for the speaker.
#5 by screen_scribbla on April 13, 2011 - 3:42 pm
“Saturday morning with windows down.”
What are those again?
You have expressed this very well.
#6 by Carl on April 13, 2011 - 9:23 pm
Thank you very much for reading and for your comment. I appreciate it.
#7 by Jingle on April 13, 2011 - 7:43 pm
isolation is priceless for writers.
eloquent delivery of your sentiments.
how are you?
Share a free verse with poets rally week 41 today, awards will be assigned.
Bless your talent.
Visit me NOW, and link your work…
#8 by Carl on April 13, 2011 - 9:25 pm
Thank you so much for stopping by, Jingle. I’m sorry but my time has been so limited, I have not been able to dedicate myself to the Rally rules. I will as soon as the schedule opens up a bit. Thanks again.