In Purgatory

in purgatory 

you awake 

alone each morning 

in the same 

semen-stained underwear

it’s dark but

you have to be at work at 8:30

 

in purgatory

you go downstairs and drink

from a pitcher of coffee 

that that you brewed

two days ago

because 

it’s too much trouble

to bother

 

half the lights in your house 

need new bulbs.

and there’s a faint smell 

of diesel exhaust 

or maybe

a public bathroom

 

in purgatory, 

it is always the end of autumn

just before

the winter freeze sets in

you need new clothes but

are too busy to buy them

your kids have left home

your wife works 

in another city

but on special occasions

you might get some 

of them together

for a dinner 

you overcooked

 

you collapse into bed alone 

but instead of resting

you lie there with your

laptop on your knee

trying to complete work

left over from the day

that is meaningless

and that won’t matter

in a few months anyway

 

in purgatory 

you think about

the energy you 

used to have

the good sex 

and the time

when you could 

run a mile in

six minutes 

 

and in the middle 

of the night

you sometimes 

lie awake 

frozen by the 

realization that

your time there 

is almost up

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Renee]

You have encompassed the smell, and sensation of being there, dangling in between now and then, here and nowhere, nothing and more nothingness... There is a comedic tone here. I can't fathom such a place because I believe that when we pass over this realm, we immediately meet our Maker. The flow and imagery was outstanding.


Renee ♥

[J. Snipes]

Purgatory- it’s not an everyday poem to read. Even a resemblance to the mythical encounter that does not exist. Shuuuh- are you listening? Everything you have written is good, most great.

[MmeCorpse]

I always love the gritty imagery you put into all your work.

[.]

gosh..thankfully I don't believe in such nonsense..but if I did..I would start being very good...

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

the taste of heavy metal disgorges its plume of pain into the arena ~ under the feel of hard gutter coils a sublime beauty that's yet to be defined~