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Greenline

John Madigan

thesnowwasfallinglightly

 

My eyes opened first, though I was sure that

(the basement curtains meant that we had slept)

you were probably awake. My left arm fell

(through the train, slept through the chance to live)

asleep in the mean time. It didn’t take much

(our lives. We both were groggy and fully)

to rouse you. The sound of footsteps above our

(clothed, but aware that it wasn’t armor.)

heads and the light barely being held back by


 

fugaziisnotknownforlovesongs

 

(connection at all.)

I wore my t-shirt,

(to see your eyes, to make any)

it was the same as yours,

(I wanted to hear your voice,)

it was clean I swear,

(landing’s path)

I was hoping you’d turn

(Bulbs flickering, a constructed)

around and say something,

(with your friends.)

anything to me.

(and then walked to your car)

But you kept looking forward,


 

jewelosconearharlemandmadison

 

It was my shoulder, sequestered in this dark corner of the parking lot, curing ills in neat blistered packages lined in foil.

It was my shoulder that was too good to leave but too shaky a territory to start anew. That terribly lonesome new world that was offered but politely refused,

passed back across the table with some chicken-scratched no.


 

iranthefourminutemile

 

I was on the edge of McHenry, when

I saw your porch light, the now bare bulb, the one we broke last August

sleeping on your dirty floor, the party too much for us both

the drinks providing the palate

I saw you topless and making out with

my best friend, but I was just your driver

 

the next morning I took you to work and you told me all that you remembered

 

we were friends first

 


 

whatitwasliketobeyoungandinlove

 

Santa Rosa wildfires

sweet sounds, making love

the roar and crackle, spreading

the love thickly with the touch

of the breeze –

 

in all directions I was surrounded,

I was pinned down shaking,

until only the blackened earth remained

and above me the clear, blue sky

 

Entry photo "HCTX Ranch House Front Porch Light" by Robert W. Howington

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About John Madigan

Filed Under: Poetry

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