4 May 2007, 11:21 PM
The next time I say the drama has passed,
even momentarily, I hope you'll promise
to spit in my eye. I was thinking this tonight
as the cold rain blinded me and my brother,
and we tapped and wrenched and ratcheted
the battery terminal on my POS. Really,
Beloved, is the drama ever really spent?
Is there such a thing as a day not torn
and bent by happenings which drain
the body, mind and soul of strength
to choose to take another step; keep on
hoping the car will start, as it sits
silent in the listless tears of solitary night?