Green Hills Literary Lantern

 

 

Handy

 

 

The sleeve disappears from the handshake

And coziness is drafty there.

 

I shake hands

With the wind and inherit the atmosphere.

 

You know me by who I am not.

You get along well with the mistaken me.

 

Night throws its shingles on my roof.

The moon is a rubber stamp on my humanity.

 

I think I am living in the suburbs again like

When I was young.

 

Both my parents are dead like two sides of a coin.

 

I’m having trouble at my job.

I’d like to ask my dad his advice but he is vacationing

In heaven.

 

I am spilling down the funnel towards death.

I am the promise of the drain.

 

 

 

David Lawrence has published over a thousand poems.  Some of his poetry books include Lane Changes and Dementia Pugilistica.  He has also published a memoir, The King of White Collar Boxing. He continues to coach at Gleason's Gym, and can still do fifty chins and seventy push ups at 70 years old.