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Image for the poem                E s c a p a l o g y

              E s c a p a l o g y

     
     
I try not to think of the fact that      
she-chose-others-before-me      
the exception I never could be      
that one damn chance where      
the loop could have ended      
I watch the drinks being handed      
     
So much for the annual membership fee      
     
My eyes burn and twitch nevertheless      
I start a fresh attempt to form      
a smile that could pass as real      
Nazareth's Love Hurts plays slowly      
somewhere inside and I sigh audibly      
as a tight bunch of strangers      
close in-bright-high-inspired      
feigning interest-as genuine      
as my smile for the last eternity      
they are nothing but claustrophobia      
     
So much for the social networking spree
     
     
I try not to think of the fact      
that she consistently evaded me      
by citing infantile reasons which      
were nothing less than cruel      
the sudden resurgence of love      
followed by days of indifference      
     
So much for Buddhist philosophy      
     
They look a mix of moronic and robotic-      
these-young-guns-who-are-the-future      
They have tall wine glasses      
Together they smell faintly like cupboards      
or may be the acid is wearing off      
Well it could be the transition      
between my frequent micronaps after      
three straight days without sleep      
I bet they are asking me questions      
and all I imagine to have done is nod      
I could catch a train with my tongue      
There are a few girls here-may be ten      
gowns-skirts-svelte-curls-frills-beamish      
I get a jolt and the girl in front of me      
smiles with her hand on my shoulder      
She asks if I am alright-her glassy eyes      
glinting-like an overfull dewdrop      
I let her help me sit down-s l o w l y      
She tells me it's okay and I start to      
really wonder what she could have meant      
     
So much for incessant self-loathing      
     
With eyes closed my field of vision becomes      
a rapid Gasper Noe sickening flash carnival      
I push myself and before I reach the door      
the earthworm of my esophagus expels it all      
in reverse peristalsis-bitter-thick-warm-stale      
The entire party stops and watches me in my      
profound moment of despair-isolation-madness      
They tch-tch and talk under their breaths      
A few sprint to my help and whispers permeate      
the comfortable silence all around me-us-them      
The persistent visions of my love fade away      
as the lime light crawls its way towards me-      
the scorned lover-the wounded tiger-the thing      
     
So much for telling myself 'Mission Accomplished.'
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
photograph courtsey-Mehmet Turgut
Written by Whitewand6
Published
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