Poppyseeds
When it all started (me and you), you
brought me bags of bagels, and
the poppyseeds would fall off of them in
the toaster, on the counter, on the plate
The bagels weren’t very well-made and yet
I ate them, joyfully enough at first
thinking of you, and then,
ruefully at last, thinking again
Finally it came out:
I was just poor, I was just hungry
I never really liked those stale bagels
I fell in love for something to do
And you put your faith in new love
(never smart!) and if my naive faith in
undiscerning saviors, if it was cute for
a minute, now, my toaster is on fire
And I’m all alone in this (wooden) house
forgetting how you smother an electric
blaze, I always knew it would end like
this, they’ll all blame me, saying:
I always knew he’d drink again, and
Oh, I know, so sad
Horror Sleaze Trash 