Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ONE WEEKEND HOME, by MICHAEL BURNS First Line: You, sir, are a lying sack of shit Subject(s): Home | ||||||||
You, sir, are a lying sack of shit, says a pretty girl to a man at the pool table, and he misses his shot. She gets up and kisses him full on the lips. I've been painting my mother's house all day. I've come home to find my brother is sick and not himself, and I don't know what to say except I wish I'd been sitting in that girl's lap. The man leaned down to shoot the 8 in the corner, and she made her valentine ass the target. On my way back, I stop at the bridge and throw a rock and listen for the splash. One time a light came down here on a boy, a Pentecost. Someplace in the night, Mother has forgotten I'm home, and she cries out in a fierce voice: Who's there? It's me, I say, and then I lie awake in my old bed, talking to myself: Who's me? Who's me? -- black dog, sick dread -- but I'm namelessly happy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EL FLORIDA ROOM by RICHARD BLANCO DESTINATIONS by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN TO THIS HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE UPSTAIRS ROOM by WELDON KEES HOME IS SO SAD by PHILIP LARKIN DUTCH INTERIOR by DAVID LEHMAN AN AMERICAN IN BANGKOK by KAREN SWENSON ROBERT OF LINCOLN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT EMMELINE GRANGERFORD'S 'ODE TO STEPHEN DOLWING BOTS, DEC'D' by SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS |
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