digitaladdiction

Here's another poem:

Maxine Kumin

At the End of the Affair

That it should end in an Albert Pick hotel
with the air conditioner gasping like a carp
and the bathroom tap plucking its one-string harp
and the sourmash bond half gone in the open bottle,

that it should end in this stubborn disarray
of stockings and car keys and suitcases,
all the unfoldings that came forth yesterday
now crammed back to overflow their spaces,

considering the hairsbreadth accident of touch
the nightcap leads to--how it protracts
the burst of colors, the sweetgrass of two tongues,
then turns the lock in Hilton or in Sheraton,
in Marriott or Holiday Inn for such
a man and a woman--bearing in mind these facts,

better to break glass, sop with towels, tear
snapshots up, pour wiskey down the drain
than reach and tangle in the smae old snare
saying the little lies again

Man -- I can picture this lady with the old smoker's cough and deep, scratchy voice well past sexy -- all bile and acid.

But a kernel of truth too.

Welcome to a new day