Canto CXX

I have a feeling playing Grand Theft Auto
over the course of three leisurely days
won’t make me more the poet, less the bastard,

though I have made an effort, taken pains
not to drive my newly hijacked Hummer
over the grannie’s pixelated bones.

My wife is in the next room, looking over
her facebook backlog and within her womb
our child’s curled up, the length of a banana.

The shops close early and the short lived gloom
of almost days make their mark on the nights
that hold dominion until the Spring comes.

The slow drag of our bright blue satellite
around the sun seems to speed up as years
accrue on cartiledge and laughter lines.

The Hummer takes a drive off a short pier.
The words “Game Over” come and go and then
my avatar magically reappears

to fail a little better, fail again.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Jan 02, 2012 @ 00:20:03

    I may be wrong….. but if poetry reflects our moods, this was a very laid back day. This poem feels as if it just flowed naturally. I like the imagery; you, your wife, your unborn child chilling out after the frantic hype that is Christmas.


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