
Poetry Month: Stealing Their Spirit
April 18, 2016In honor of poetry month, I thought it would be fun to post five poems in the next five days. This one (‘Stealing Their Spirit’) originally appeared in ArtVoice in 2007 under the wrong title (‘Prize Fighters’). It’s from my first book of poems Breathing Room Volume I: Free Verse (2008, Doubt It Publishing).
stealing their spirit
i used to take photographs
of the girls I wanted so desperately
to sleep with.
there are albums filled with their
quizzical wonder
impromptu smiles
forlorn profiles
in dim lit bars
as the flash
took them by surprise.
these were shortly
followed by landscape
scenarios
with the muse in question
somewhere in the foreground
taken with the camera
and the man behind it.
then bedroom motifs
ruffled hair
morning breath and no makeup
dark sunrises where sex hid
in dawn shadows
in black & white
turn the page and they are gone
not a trace
no hint as to what transpired
the blossoming subject
vanished;
replaced by a new lass
a new love
as long as the 35 mm rolls contended.
no sign of a fight
nor glimpse of hurt feelings
drunken fumblings
discovered cheating
just rolling pastures, crisp monochrome profiles
& the sweeping ephemera
of neon bar signs, snowscapes,
bedposts, apartments in
dissarray
shortly followed by their replacement.
my camera couldn’t take it
anymore
the girls couldn’t take it
anymore.
-i ran out of albums
undeveloped rolls of film
sat unexposed and neglected in glove compartments
camera suitcases filled with film paraphenalia
catch-all desk drawers
with miscellaneous forgotten keepsakes
they leer back at me
in so many years
the grins and captured laughs
curtsies and wise assed smiles
saying ‘fuck you, tom,
look what you did
to me’
‘it started innocently
enough
you took it away
you stole it
you botched it
this youth
this puppy love
this idle romance
the dinner date
the second drink
the afternoon rendevouz
the fuck in the car at 3 in the morning
it’s gone.’
-fading away on double prints
gathering dust and I found someone else
stuck in a drawer and I found someone
better
the spine is cracking on the album
and I miss you.
i stopped taking pictures
of women
i’m attracted to
because pieces of me
wound up on the film
too.
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