Woody Allen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Hi. I don't even know what one would call this, it certainly is not set out properly in poem structure. And it probably does not make any sense to anyone but me. I wrote it while watching a Woody Allen film for the first time; Cafe Society, and realizing how much my ex's humor had rubbed off on me. He did a lot of bad things, I've accepted that I'll never understand him, but will always love him. And sometimes it's even nice to imagine where we'd be if he'd just made a few 'right' decisions. Anyway, it felt good to write it down regardless.

Submitted: February 12, 2017

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Submitted: February 12, 2017

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Woody Allen

There were so many things,

Unanswered questions. Riddles.

Words lost meaning. So we quit them.

I’m eating dinner alone,

In the middle of the night.

 

I’m happy. I am.

Barely still curious.

But I have it. Your contagious affliction;

Living for Absurdity.

It’s a painful climax.

 

I sit on the red couch,

Imagine your greasy fingers,

You rub them along the pants.

I had just laundered them for you.

I roll my eyes. You grin. Asshole. I want you. Always.

 

Only still, absurdity gropes me.

I gave you up for happiness.

A lifetime; wasted before I could understand.

But I feel the answer to you.

When all I can think is;

We could be watching Woody Allen right now.


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