My Shadow



My Shadow


Today I sit by the window
my delusion
spreads—nothing I think
has the quality
of a wounding experience.
I'm lonely because I allowed
you to step on my shadow.
But now that I've crawled out
of the ground I think I'll dance
on your grave.
Is this an angry statement?
You are dead like a great white wolf
who cannot sing, dead
sonofabitch, always mean to me.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Undertow Poetry Review, La Resaca First Issue

Lucecita Benitez - Cabalgata