A Poem by Anon ymous
It’s a silent movie, a note taped to the fridge;
the late night bark of a dog that wants to be let out. It’s the to
and fro of an R & B song, the back and forth of a one-sided
conversation; independence from prime numbers and gravity.
There was the slow motion of uncertainty, sawdust and pool
chalk; dense clouds of smoke, hiked up skirts. It’s now; it’s this
piece of earth clenched in my fist. There was last call, last call,
and final chances; the soft amber glow of a first crush. It is now.