Monday, March 15, 2010

Sonnet 21: i answer the door like some goddamned butler'man

By Matthew Paul Olmos

i answer the door like some goddamned butler'man
who isn't ever home
just only working in some foreign land
too scared to let well enough just alone

i greet my guests with a fake smile and a groan
hiding the underneath of my face
as if painting for them some normal of tone
never letting up how so exhausted is the outside of my face

and i let the evening grow over
like weeds becoming green
like the lines in my face growing older
yea, an i lie about everything

every single puff out of my mouth,
like some goddamned northern boat heading way, way down south.

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