a poem by Melanie Browne

I’m hungry and the bread is stale

to write a great
modern love poem
its best to flee your
own country
for a month
or a year

get aquainted
with the light
and certain sounds
on certain streets

and a million things
that never matter
and matter too much

hang out in bars
find the girl with
frown lines
take her back to her place
and fuck her

then talk about
the nihilistic thoughts
you had last Tuesday
and the way
her sorrows & her
thighs are both
too heavy

about how hungry you are;
how the carafe sits cold with
lack of attention
and the bread is stale

but later you
take comfort in watching
the women
laugh in the street
hips swaying
while you warm up
from the cold
with a shot glass

and more
time
than words

© Melanie Browne