“ANTHEM” 26 Apr 99

This is what keeps me awake at night:

A fridge of off-date milk and tin cans.
A television. Dreams of Superman.
A Novel. A badly chosen word in a nightclub.
that bounces the fates of strangers away from each other.

A letter never sent. A phone call never made.
Things getting better
Lying in the bed where he got laid.
Turning over to find it empty again.

Your fingers. Your eyes. Your hair.
Another I-can’t-find-a-lover poem from somewhere.
The edge of night turning red
Every night the same, tired bed.

This is no anthem.
No sweet lullaby.
Just another middle aged man
moaning about life.

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