Saturday, June 16, 2007

Poem #167 of 365

I used to tease you
in mock-anger about
whistling circus music
in my house

but then I learned
how real
your anger
gets to be, so
indulgent, bloated.

I wish the memory
of your calliope tunes
could drown out the
bellows, the fire in
your eyes,

and that what I feel
now could somehow
qualify as mock-sadness.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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