At the party there is a box of wine
you cannot figure out
the man behind you turns the knob
as if it wasn’t a difficult thing
it is a difficult thing
the walk home is sad
this rain, this thunder, says the storm
are just for you
the world turns into Sunday
you are not wearing pants
if you could give advice to children
it would be to never wear pants on Sunday
black tar and PBR
for breakfast
your mother never said
don’t smoke heroin
it was only implied
you sit on the toilet
spit between your legs
in the end, life will be judged
not by how you loved
but by the number of clothes hangers you own
and the height of the pile of dishes in your sink
it’s too late to take back your
yearbook quote
No rain, no rainbow
is not a Hawaiian proverb
just a line off the back of a t-shirt
the ride to work is grey and drizzly
your wipers go faster than everyone else’s
this is the only setting you have
squeeze a human head of lettuce
brainy leaves squish past your knuckles
a hand sandwich
when people ask what you are eating
answer with caution
it may be the only impression you’ll make
a handprint in the sand
on a world with no wind
what will you have with
your last lunch on earth
an apple or a human heart?
the sum of your equation
is here and now
the answers, of course
will be different next year
when you find the edge
you must remember
gravity only works
one way
Nate Wilkerson lives in Portland, Oregon where he is sad about no longer being a kid. He is an assistant editor for M Review, likes words that rhyme, and one day hopes to find a dinosaur bone. He has poems and stories elsewhere on the interwebs – some of which can be found here: http://wilkersonnate.wordpress.com/
Categories: Mental Health, Poetry, Themed
Tags: e-zine, ezine, hyperbole, longing, melancholy, melancholy hyperbole, Mental Health, Nate Wilkerson, new, poem, poet, poetry, poets, submit, What It Will Feel Like To Die, writing
“…a handprint in the sand
on a world with no wind…”
Very evocative line. I love this poem; it flows well and is very thought-provoking.