Familiar Voices

(After reading Kate Braveman)

I listen:
familiar voices

like old lovers;
I smoke another cigarette

down to the filter;
the ashes crumble,

the voices
gutter my face,
they erode me.

I have pictures of you
the sun has faded —

The voices cease
like a heart attack.

I smash another butt;
I build a new lover
out of ash.

Published in Bitterroot, Winter 1987-88

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~ by danielwrasmus on April 24, 2010.

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