VacationA Poem by Deborah HamiltonHad it been a one-night stand, it would have been perfect Stars performing drunk the first act of the new lovers’ ballet Waves arching their backs, easing down mild Release constraint, never see me again Had it been a one-night stand, it would have been perfect He packed his clothes dirty in gray multi-piece luggage A few seashells, rolls of film, postcards that were never mailed We boarded the train, He held my hand With fingers intertwined like rope Consequential stranglehold of my animation I knew his middle name Came up over Eggs Benedict Sign of encouragement when racing through fog I had watched him sleep Kissed softly the dry lips that twitch when touched Slid my fingertips along next month’s regret “This is her!” he exclaimed Fraudulent smile acquaints myself with folks and friends Drank alcohol pastels with umbrellas out of habit While he told stories colorable and swollen and consummated Did the silent smile when he mentioned, “Her” with the glance of a smother Consented to and rescinded my fragment of his fortnight We made love each night, followed it with scrambled eggs and toast each morning He kissed me before his days started, before I set out in search of… His life continued as it had before, as it would I stood watching, sipping my ice tea, amused and humiliated I stood silently, smiling Because it demands less effort than consumption “You’re a blender and a chess set and a wool glen plaid scarf,” I told myself “You’re in a nice box with tissue paper and no receipt,” I told myself Thinking that I’d rather be a photograph or a diary entry I dragged the week underneath my life “Don’t collect too much dust” © 2010 Deborah HamiltonReviews
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4 Reviews Added on September 12, 2010 Last Updated on October 9, 2010 AuthorDeborah HamiltonChicago, ILAboutThe summary: Writer/artist/activist; delights in absurdity; lives for friends and family; worships Ella the Wonder Dog; becomes giddy over cheese, Fran Lebowitz, McSweeney's, Otis Redding, and the lug.. more..Writing
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