Thursday, May 22, 2008

all shitty things must come to an end

She could follow-follow
always ten steps behind,
shorter in stride than he and
laden with heavy bags

He would stride along in his
usual way, swaggering
at a comfortable pace for him
not noticing if she was still there
behind, but if one day she wasn’t
there would be hell to pay

oh yeah, hell to pay
for that bitch

Yes she could follow-follow
or she could stop
pause
right here
on the curb, drop
the bags, sit
and take stock of the day

A robin on the grass, over there
searching,
two small snotty-nosed kids chasing
a third on a bike,
a pair of
emerald-tinged swallows in the air
moving in formation,
identical smooth arcs traced finely
(no inequities there)

Yes she could pause
and the bastard would not notice,
for a while. When he eventually spots her absence
(maybe he needs a swig out of one
of the bags) he may yell,
getoverhere
and maybe she will stand, pick up her bags
and shuffle on,

or maybe not. Maybe
one of these days, she will tell him
he can go rot in hell

and she will turn and walk slowly
and resolutely in the
opposite direction,

down the street
to her sister’s place.


Rachel Westfall
May 22, 2008

2 comments:

Kyddryn said...

One may hope...

Shade and Sweetwater,
K

RachelW said...

There was a couple like this in the town where I spent most of my childhood. I used to see them, year after year, and wonder why she kept following him instead of turning around and walking away. At some point, you'd hope she would decide she'd had enough.