Two Poems by Patrick Riedy


you left your brush behind
now i use it

and our hairs are
once again

happy birthday
this is a poem for what we once were

you can live in here

and all your split ends

the ones not strong enough to stay in your head

sam cooke’s yours. he’ll never grow old.

sam sings about soft hearts
but the sadness hides
behind the voice coming out
what he names soul

if there is such a thing
it is lost on me
in this poem
not the real live me
at the time only thirteen

now and then
time between
what does it mean
question everyone
you consistently ask
in order to believe

we all need
but i like to think i’ll know when it’s time to sing
from when it’s time to dream
believe you me

we all can’t wait to trade in
up and out
of this wannabe hick town
with its chemical sunsets
and broken streets

we are all waiting for someone to take our shift
to finish what someone else started

the type of things you whisper to each other
right before you go to sleep
under your breath
‘i like (love) you so much’
you feel you mean it
that’s enough
the warmth
the utterance
sends shivers down her neck

she didn’t hear
and you’ll be here
singing alone

Profile: Patrick Riedy


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