Nagoya Writes

November 29, 2007

Wrinkled Ticket by John J. Sapelak

Filed under: Issue: May 2006,Poetry,Spelak — usbengoshi @ 4:09 pm
Tags: ,

There’s a question written
Where I wanna put my hand
What are you gonna sell me
I wonder
And a face twists itself
To look stupid enough
For a beer ad
Riding this train together
At least to the next stop
Got nothing but my chair until then,
And the dirt on my shoes
What’s between here and there is just something to contemplate
Till we get there
Fingering an old memory
That’s old enough to regret
Empty enough to feel
And too far to get
And that wrinkled ticket in your hand
Looks just like what’s in mine

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