After
after William Kitterman
imagine if this went on
much longer
if it happened again
and again
an old friend speaks:
you are a scared little man
my sweet friend
my sweet from end to end
bring a cup of joe
sit here on the stoop
slurping pain
let it happen once again
after the morning noise
where I thought much,
felt little—evening came—
and my heart was breaking,
no one was there to notice,
because I hadn’t noticed them.
13 thoughts on "After"
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This is a stunner of a poem, Manny. Pared down from your “usual” style, it’s no less a powerhouse. Those final two lines pack a punch.
Great writing !!!!
And thank you for the introduction 🙂
OK, we need to talk. 🙂 I like the tight compact form of this and went to find kitterman. ” where oh where could Mr. Kitterman be?”
sounds like a conversation
between
caffeine and
cocaine.
this is almost minimalist for you..
(not shade) makes me curious
what you could do in 12 words or
less.(?)
This poem leaves a pregnant pause. It’s heartbreaking but it fulfills. Exquisite work!
Another really strong one!
💛
Concise and haunting.
in form and tone, sounds like a poem out of Blake’s Songs of Experience
Profound, Manny. I love this briefer, more focused mode for you. I feel your intellect AND your soul here. Bravo.
💛
This moved me. Thank you for sharing.
💜 thanks for being someone who got me started Deanna