Lay Like Wadded Up

The man on the floor
was yesterday’s starched shirt,
he was well creased slacks
now crumbled half out of the closet,
hat across the room.

He is as dead as
yesterday will ever be –
no blood, only a smudge or a stain
as dead –
as dead as
a Brooklyn shirt maker.

All the dreams of glory,
of victory,
and a bigger commission,
lay like wadded up socks
in the basket
of what might have been

but is

now only dirty laundry.

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About anthonyuplandpoetwatkins

https://www.goodreads.com/AnthonyUplandpoetWatkins born in Jackson, The United States August 04, 1959 gender male website http://www.lulu.com/shop/search.ep?contributorI... genre Poetry, Historical Fiction influences James M. Lancaster, Brenda Black White, Gertrude Stein, William Carlos Williams, and Al Filreis member since March 2011 About this author edit data As one of the most public lives ever lived by a private citizen, there is little about me that isn't already available at Facebook or Shelfari and countless other places. Poet, writer, construction worker, salesman, truck driver, climber into the attics of total strangers, father and husband, and all around one of the luckiest men on the planet. My luck continued with a win in the June Goodreads Newsletter Contest! What an honor! http://anthonyuplandpoetwatkins.wordp... Additional Influences: Bob Dylan, William Faulkner, Barbara Kingsolver, Gloria Naylor, Eudora Welty
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