Kyle Hemmings

You portion out the rain in zip-loc bags. I swim side-stroke under low sky.
You drop kittens in your sleep. I return from lunar explorations with stuffed
 aliens. Self-inflicted bruises from sleep deprivation. You desert all your broken
 toys. I fondle jack rabbits, the true hares of this earth. Under your last lover’s
 window, you hurled words as if spitballs. My last lover called me Slow-Hand Elmo
 and said to reach her by telegram. I disappeared between dots and dashes.
 I went paperless. You believe in circles and self-help books by East Village gurus.
I believe the dead like it where they are. In soft encounters, you set an internal
 alarm clock. Time’s up! Already? When you look away, I speak in a stream
 of fragments. You say: Do what you want! I say the other side of my brain wants
 vegetable pizza. But I’ll starve as a lefty, get it, Alice? In the shower, you sing
some corny love song, or hum your ex’s favorite–“Apples + Oranges,”
by Smashing Pumpkins. At the window of a mirror-less afternoon, I sign
 that in your absence I am impossible. Nobody is watching. Nobody.
You cringe below empty bird cages. I text you the joke of the day.
You are silent. I am mute.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.

Posted on December 5, 2012, in Kyle Hemmings, POETRY and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. The last of Kyle’s current submissions. I’ve enjoyed his work a lot. I like the fever of this piece, and the playfulness of some of the imagery which highlights the subtext of sadness.

    Read his other work by clicking the link and following “Older Posts” beneath the “Like” box:

  2. Ruminations in a prose poem on the many rooms in Kyle’s imaginative existence.

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