In the Details: Live

Live on Whipporwill Lane

At the concert, the singer
Strums her guitar and stares
Into the lights, singing
Live. I’m bleeding out a
Day’s (more than) pay for
Her and in this 18th row
I’m just a shadow, though I
Hope suppose guess she knows
I love her– because every day
On the way to the hospital, I’ve
Injected her voice and her
Train of dreams into my own
Anemic mind, into that
Stop-and-go hour
When staring at the back of a
Hummer with its “MENACE”
Vanity plate is just the
Tiniest of my joys.

This poem is part of my daily series, “In the Details,” posted here and on the Stratford Patch.

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