Tuesday, September 06, 2005


You sit there, tearing yours to shreds
As you outline yet again your doubts
Something about former lovers
Or is it your mother? I’m not quite sure;

All I can see is the way you are tearing
While you sit there staring at nothing
With those bad, mad, sad eyes.
But who am I to talk? I look down,

To see mine folded neatly into strips,
As I sit listening, waiting to be torn.
“God, is that the time?”, you say,
As you gently lay down my wrist.

The moment is lost; we both now must go our separate ways
And leave the sad looking waitress to clear the debris.

© JL Pagano 1988

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1 comment:

BEAD said...

This, like so many other Pagano moments, is pure fucking genius. A touch of the Brendan Behan about it. And Like Behan, I love this. Keep up the writing, class..good to know you Mr Pagano - Bead