Today's poem is by Elisa Gabbert
I could know him, and like him,
like liner notes to a jazz album.
But liking doesn't lead to love.
You switch to a different axis.
A self-indulgent misery
is best, a cathartic performance
I perform myself.
I read that happy people have
an inaccurate sense of time.
The descent as slow falling. The dead
don't get any more dead.
When remembering him,
I'm never lonely.
Copyright © 2018 Elisa Gabbert All rights reserved
from L'Heure Bleue, or the Judy Poems
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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