Mastodon Dentist – Issue 13
Approximating Tenderness
I appear rough in the morning glare,
unshaven—a black cactus face—
the squinty eyes of a man
who avoids sunlight and conversation.
Loneliness is its own reward: nightingale
composing for an exclusive lover.
You are patient, kissing the booze
effluvia from my midnight
tainted breath—lungs
like a dry church organ
silent since the apocalypse.
The avoidant neighbors who relish
gossip before their evening
TV wonder—electric powder
glows like frosted sugar
along the bone dire room.
Love waits like a shadow.
I appear rough in the morning glare,
unshaven—a black cactus face—
the squinty eyes of a man
who avoids sunlight and conversation.
Loneliness is its own reward: nightingale
composing for an exclusive lover.
You are patient, kissing the booze
effluvia from my midnight
tainted breath—lungs
like a dry church organ
silent since the apocalypse.
The avoidant neighbors who relish
gossip before their evening
TV wonder—electric powder
glows like frosted sugar
along the bone dire room.
Love waits like a shadow.
Phillip M. Roberts
| "Mr. Twigs" |
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