|
||||||||
|
|
|
||||||
|
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
|
|
||||||
|
||||||||
Remy C. Orffeo: 2 poems
LIKE BEING A NURSE'S AIDE AIN'T ALL FUN AND GAMES
The old woman's hand
(still delicate through
marbled skin)
reached out, her finger
tips touched my cheek.
I've lived,
she said,
a hundred and twenty years -
the time given to us
in the Bible - but now
(as her fingers stroked
my cheek - then fell
like a bird with a
wounded wing - slowly
in a circular
fluttering
motion,
away)
it is
time.
Without thinking
I went to get the
sponge
to wipe away
all those
years.
LAST CALL
It's an interesting question --
why didn't you love me? -- that
I asked you once
before the booze had kicked in
so hard
that you would get teary
at any suggestion
you weren't filled, saturated,
overflowing
with love, and
filling a water glass with
whiskey
you said
love is what remains --
quickly lifting the
glass up to your greedy mouth
and draining the amber liquid --
after last call.
Remy C. Orffeo's work has appeared in many small press publications. This is his first appearance in Gnome.
