Eftsoons in poetspeak by T.A. Young

​Eftsoons in poetspeak


Eftsoons in poetspeak
The last draught 
We ambled to our cars 
Mumbled and waved
Without raising our eyes
To beer companions
And hit the gas. 

We know the faces
Weariness belying cheer
Screen doors not worth locking
Grassless lawns 
Like the ten o’clock shadows of
Inmates 
cinder blocks for flora.
Burnt and drained 
And nothing new on cable. 

Too tired to not think
Of days when he was another
Changing dead bulbs soon as they 
Sparked out. 

And a voice would come from another room. 
Are you home? 

Now, you say to no one, I don’t know.
Going straight for the fridge
Reaching for a bottle of loneliness
In poetspeak
To assuage the loneliness
In poetspeak

He falls asleep in a chair,
One foot on the ottoman
The glare of the sun through
The screen door will awaken him

He’ll see that he never even took a tug
From the now-dead bottle
And he hasn’t changed his socks in days

And will another day 
One more day
Make any difference,
Even in poetspeak?



T.A. Young is an author and poet who lives in NYC.