#poem #poetry #amwriting sketchbook

the words I love you never crossed the step
it was a matter of pride
and I wondered in the heat of passion
what was said instead

the kitchen was scrubbed free of germs
the living room sucked clean twice a day
and all that grew - that I could see -
was the whiskey bottle for twenty p's

yet they seemed to be as me
they said hello and goodbye
chatted over the slatted fence

The Blue Book