by Jeff Glovsky, Poetry, Writing

Hear Me (Fall)

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In the Midtown bar, the blonde ignores surroundings, blithely chatting on a cellphone, like she’s home alone, or might as well be.

Unlike she, I’ve got no one to talk to.  Sitting with the gloaming outside, loud annoying noise within.  My head, the music bleeding, pounds right through me, thoughts (not there) receding…

Empty.  I look up, and down.  The room spins.

No one hears me fall.


by Jeff Glovsky

 

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