James Diaz

No One To Say it To

Despair is a room in my Father’s house 
it’s too long a story to tell standing up
some days it’s like you aren’t even human 
but you are you are you are 

And you can go tell it now from every mountain 
how Linda danced alone in her mobile home
and no one ever checked on her 
not once did anyone notice the ghost town she had become 
despair just another a room in her bones no one had a key to

And the dark Indiana wind at night rocking smoke stack trailers 
till the hills feel what the road can do
when a car goes over like 48 years of mute prayers
chucking itself into the nameless thing

It’s too much to tell standing up
how she never felt human / not once
but she was she was she was 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s