If You See Me Somewhere Else

Jeffrey H. MacLachlan

 

If you see me somewhere else, say,

within a poem as a clueless love

interest wearing a pair

of rumbling clouds as headphones

or in a painting as a monster

roaring for its children, please

listen to me now. I admit

sometimes I only listen

to my own storms, dark rain drops

and hissing bloody lightning.

And yes there is a monster stealing

beneath my eyes. He needs to see

his children after a rough winter

of hibernation, he tells me.

And I tell you now

that here I am a pineapple grenade

smoking and smoking at a jazz club

on leave, not wanting this set

to end, not wanting my pin

to be ripped out by the crown.

 

 

Copyright 2007 by the Tipton Poetry Journal.

All rights remain the exclusive property of the individual poet and may not be used without their permission.

 

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