note
i look at a note I jotted down
a thought
a revelation
an expression of truth
I trace my fingers over the loops and bends
I cannot remember what I wrote
and I cannot read my writing
-zumwwalt (1991)
Posts tagged ‘1991 Poem’
She serves yogurt
She serves yogurt
Stupidly, like a dying man stumbling into a life insurance office,
I asked her out.
“What night did you have in mind?”
“Thursday would be best.”
“Sir, I don’t know how old you think I am but I am sixteen.”
Stunned, I made no reply and she took it for composure
and said yes,
warning me that her mother would have a fit.
-zumwalt (1991)
