agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ You are
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-12-04 | |
I walk along the dusty boulevard
(I don't even know what the means, boulevard) It's a street at least I'm holding my ipod in one hand, my gloves are on, it's cold I take out my cell phone and glance at the screen No messages (Why did I even look? Did I think she would call?). Back in the pocket. It takes me forever to get where I am going, forever to take my eyes off the phone it takes forever for me to move on to consider it done, thrown away. My heart clings on like the resting geese wait to go south. One time, I was walking along and saw a goose, a lone goose so far behind the others were in the next state. Without the others, it was squawking its heart out "Honk! Honk!" it said (It was so sad, I felt like picking it right out of the sky and hugging it, taking it home) It flew past me, above my head, trying to find it's way up there. I want to throw my phone away in the trash. And never look at its stupid blank screen. Old and bulky, a dull scratched cover I want an iphone but its contract isn't up for another year (Will I finally be over this then?) Boring and gray plastic, that loves to ridicule, swaying in my pocket of emptiness - Don't steal my calls. You too are helpless. Little flip-phone, do you feel the panicked grasp of my hand, anxious to feel your ringing vibrations? Do you know what it's like to touch her hair? (It's wonderful) Leave it alone. I won't be taken Forever picking you up, perhaps prying your crack of deep darkness open I look her up in my puny list of contacts. I will get rid of you one day, little phone. That lone goose I saw kept honking, Each squawk more hoarse and tired. Friends were found in his head but not around. They left and I am sure the goose did not survive the winter. It is just too cold out there alone. I grab my ipod, turn up the volume (I don't care if it hurts my ears) And fling myself away from thoughts. My coat is just beginning to tear around the seams as Thoughts of Kindness, her kindness. Towards everyone in her life. My gloves just aren't warm enough - And Her Eyes, their laughter as I tell another boring joke.
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy