Poetry: David Allen

by David Allen
David Allen

A Lie

once upon a time,
i found the secret
to the truth
and,
to protect my sanity,
i smashed it
with a rock
and destroyed all trace
of the liar.


Taking the Trouble

I walked to your
back door last night
and saw two legs standing
where mine might have been.

I panicked, stepped backwards
down the stoop steps,
retreated to the side of the house
and plotted.

Then I knocked on your door.

“Are you coming?” I asked.
You were confused, drunk,
shaken by his visit --
but smiling.

“How are you?” I asked his beard.
“I’m coming from behind my mask,”
he said. “My ass,” I thought.

You said you’d be along
shortly.

I waited through the long night
for your scream
or a slamming door.


Checking Out

And then the door slammed
and he stood there
in the middle of the room
looking toward the finality,
as if he could see the tracers
of her striding angry,
furiously from him.

"F**k this!"
she had said,
and the shock
of those two ugly words
echoed inside his foggy brain,
already confused
and struggling
to make sense
of what had happened.
The coins and the change bowl
and paperbacks and pens
she had swept with an angry arm
off the top of the bookshelf
lay scattered on the floor.

In his hand he clutched
the orange she'd thrown
at his head.

"Is this it?" he wondered.

"Is it finally over?
Or is this some new torture,
the start of some new
chapter in this confusing mystery?"

Outside, an engine started and revved
and the peel of rubber
told him
another non-supporting
character had just exited
stage left.