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a poem by Jason L. Huskey (2 of 2)

Acute Angles Of Ecstasy

It takes only a minute for Glory
to smile, moments after the discovery
of her husband's limp remainder
in front of his antique typewriter.

She pours a glass of convenience store
wine and sits down on the carpet
by his dangled hand that with one
slight twitch silenced a poet's breath.

She drinks for him and her,
the children and the disciples,
how now his manuscripts will sell;
and she'll begin to live without

the constant lash of tongue and fist --
never again to feel the drunken slur
of his importance graphed in line with
his impotence; but as the glass empties,

she realizes that no one will care
about the truth -- how the work of
lies is more important than humanity
in the eyes of a willful academy.

© by Jason L. Huskey
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #22 ~ July 2012    previous poem