a poetry e-zine

 

 

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

Poems By Michael Frey

Waiting in front of an emperors view


Music turned off too soon.
The smell of cinnamon and pizza
Wafts upward (from the street far below)
like a crack racing through a pane of glass
like summer heat hits through open doors.

Neon blue lights swirl in circles in my apartment.
My loyal dog sleeps before I do.

The less traveled path is beaten by my tread.
I travel the same again and again.
I forgot how to get off the less traveled path.
It has been caustic to me.

My white scars blaze in the white moonlight.
Easy to see and lonely as a liar who believes.
I can hear forks click plates through the wall.

Wine bottles empty and worthless
Like used up women who have no present future.
Sitting in darkness.
Waiting for future.

I drink beer from a wine glass.
Waiting.

Michael Frey has never been published. He is a doctor by trade but has been writing poetry and short stories since he was a child. He lives and works in New York City and grew up on Long Island.

 

Copyright 2007  Chantarelle's Notebook