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I empty myself of the smell of others. I empty my bags.
I empty my glasses and leave them beside the sink
At night I turn back the alarm;
I open the ref and look at myself as a hungry man

It does me no good. The nights have done their task.
I say your name. I say hello.
The verbs do not follow each other up road
I love my wife. I keep her in the house.

My parents still hide in their graves
into the foggy corners of the hills. How can I be silent?
History reminds me who I am. I am unchanged, i am still
the same man in town.
I get rid of my life

and everything remains the same.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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