I think the old man upstairs has forgot to turn off his christmas lights.
Its the middle of May and reindeer lights flood my cupboards.
I try to confront him but his collection of plastic knifes pointing up
like stakes in Agincourt are a constant deterrent.
He moves by a system of pulleys and weights.
Moving his morning frost frame along the hallways.
His wife used to push him in a shopping cart layered with satin pillows.
I would know because it would always smell like distilled jasmine.
He called her name for three days before the paramedics came.
He still calls her name when the lights start to dim.
I guess we are never truly friendly with the dark.
the vast void that consumes all of my thoughts, keep the reindeer on.
Hi my name is Shem and I am a creative writing major. I like short walks on the beach and surrealist poetry. My favorite song is Pickin’ Boogers by Biz Markie.
(listen to some of Shem’s music here)
Inclusion of poignant, vivid details and unique phrasing contribute to the remarkable style of this poem. Also, super jealous you’re a creative writing major! I wish I could switch to that, but the time is passed. Best of luck!
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