Wednesday, July 30, 2014


Can you hear me over the sound of the story /
you’re rehearsing in your head? 
Can you see me out- / side the mirror
your reflection’s bound to, your image /
bending to your will? 
Can you see your heart in there?
My mouth is open, I’m speaking words,
while you are / posing, pursing
lips, pressing send.  What is it that / you pursue? 
What glory do you imagine?
What / wish is thrown in what well
when you casually / toss your change my way?
What hero from what Greek myth / do you play
today?   I need to know my part, my / role
so I can swoon on cue.  You’re the lead
and I’m  / supporting actor− is there another option? /
Your wisps of truth fall slow like sand in the hour - /
glass of time you’re wasting and when the glass
shatters / your lies will leak.
You’ll be exposed and I will wash / my hands of you,
because I have tried
to reach you. / I have stared into your vacant eyes,
tried to climb / the wall you’ve built to keep out
those you fear would call / you out
and my arms and legs are tired.  / I’ll leave you be. /
I’ll keep your secret.  You keep your superhero /
mask.  Save face with your stored excuses.  Hide
behind / feigned power.  Attempt to mend
your martyred heart and / I will pardon
your inability to love / because after all
you’re just a scared and hurting / boy grown
into the dim shadow of a man.


  1. To many boy-men running around like this. I was appalled to hear that one in five young women are sexually assaulted while in college. Too many boys at war with their own hearts, unable to grow up. Anyhow, this poem goes into that deep lode of yearning where we are not permitted to speak what shouts within. The breaks with "/", do they suggest a different break of the line? Glad you have contributed here at Toad Pond, hope to read you again.

  2. What an amazingly sharp commentary on the way relationships are conducted these days.

    My mouth is open, I’m speaking words,
    while you are / posing, pursing
    lips, pressing send.

    You style of punctuating with forward slashes adds to the idea of broken communication (for me) and the whole leaves me with the taste of tomorrow in my mouth. Thank you for joining us in the garden this week.

  3. Yikes! But this is the way these sleeping beauties roll while we are stabbed by thorns protecting their outer walls.