I tap the window
Curious to see
If it will disrupt
The snow gathering
On the sill

The elderly dog
In half-doze
Springs barking

The neighbor

The start irritating
The burgeoning

He sees
No reason
To go back
To the pillow

He hacks
His way
To the twelve-cup

He smokes
On the porch
The kitchen glow

He watches

The dog
Dropping under
The tree

The black
And the bitter
Gets him
To the tire shop
But not much farther

He’s outside
A mix
Of cat-piss cigarettes
And frigid air
To rouse himself

The tire cage
He failed
To secure correctly

Is flung open
By the force
Of damaged rubber

Letting free
Eager to correct
The difference

The new kid

And, no
The snow
Didn’t move
When I tapped
The window


About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook:
This entry was posted in Poetry, Written, Written Work and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Reaching

  1. Josh says:

    There is a lot going on in this piece, especially the curiously omniscient narrator. His/her observation spans physical time, book-ended within this frosted pane. The imagery in this piece is so lucid that I can easily picture this disheveled man and his dog. Given that it is present tense, the backstory of said man is unknown, but the narrator does a spectacular job of letting the copious detail fulfill this void. I enjoyed the stanza, Letting free/Pressure/Eager to correct/The difference. It rings with the sudden bang upon the poor ‘new kid’s’ head as this poem is given an abrupt end. The imaginative quality makes this down-to-earth poem one to remember.

    Liked by 1 person

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