Friday, November 4, 2011

Ménage

Loneliness, insomnia and I—
The strangest bedfellows you’ll ever see—
Toss off our sheets together and we try
Our best to keep each other company.

We pick the blankets from the floor. We find
Some satisifaction studying the shade:
Bright diagonals dance up one blind
As Fred and Ginger danced across the stage.

Nothing calms our restless legs. We kick
Phantom spiders tickling prickly feet;
We rub our soles and wait; but we can’t trick
Our senses. These sticks generate no heat.

Or nothing like that warmth I remember
Reaching for—half-dreaming—fingers blue,
Frozen, teeth chattering, ribcage tender,
Where I received an elbow from you.

2 comments:

Chuck Willman said...

OMG, Eric! I relate to this in so many ways!!
LOVED this! Maybe we have more in common than I thought...
(Except you're a 'real' poet and I'm only a novice.)
LOVED this!
Thank you.
XOXO

Eric Norris said...

Gee, Chuck. I am so glad you liked it. It is nothing really, just a little something I have been working on this morning.