Fighting Irony: entry

In a Past Life I was a Country Singer

I stand at the base of the stairs
you up above, on the landing
doing the angry finger dance
winding up for the
hurling coffee cup

In a past life I was a country singer
could make sense of the sadness
with 3 simple chords
Before that, a painter
with Wyeth-esque palette
not without talent
Before that…  it gets blurry
something Renaissance maybe
humorless days in the field
meditating on the Humanities
mindless back breaking labor
full moon manias
reluctant soldier
grieving Father
buried child
pure spirit

Now,
I stand at the top of the stairs
you at the foot
clutching a broken wrist
covering your bruised ribs
How did you get down there?
I know I pushed you
but it’s like I just woke up.

Passing bass, rattles the floor
a heartbeat on four wheels.

Visit https://xn--norgescsino-38a.com/.