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a poem by Timothy Gager (2 of 2)

Starting a poem with “sometimes” is really weak

life makes me so sad.
I stay in bed till late morning
go downstairs, fall asleep on the sofa,
the television sound in my dreams notes,
a Burmese python ingested a six foot alligator
which woke up and chomped its way out, the poor snake
exploded, the sound of the commercials wakes me every ten
minutes or so, till finally I am aware enough to talk to my fish
they are white and orange, one of them is blue with black spots,
their mouths move, they say nothing, but I understand their
"feed me," I know it's what they want, but I'm also too big
for them to suck me in but they would if they could
their little stomachs would blow wide open
but I wouldn’t fight--I'd die in the drink,
I'm way too tired and the house is dead
empty, "no floor too cold," darn chill
bleeds through my thin socks
it's all I get for being

© by Timothy Gager
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #13 ~ January 2011    previous poem