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



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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