Poetry from RP Verlaine

No Xmas Tree 

Just an empty bottle 
of very good whiskey, 
2 women, and a drink 
during the course 
of a week that ended 
with us not speaking 
to each other since. 
 
I put a rose like those 
I steal from the neighbors 
garden in said bottle 
as I reminder 
there is much beauty 
In this world. 
 
Even with the women gone. 
 
The knife one of them 
threw at me for looking 
at her friend’s legs remains 
on the floor where it landed 
after hitting the wall and 
missing me by a foot. 
 
A reminder that 
any New Year’s Eve 
even for a man with little 
to lose can be more 
curious than planned. 
 
I/he does not mind 
the things they stole 
or borrowed with ill 
intent. 
 
Who alone with 
all that once was 
still reaches for 
what lingered sweet 
long enough to be 
savored. 

His wedding ring 
lost in a desk 
alongside knowledge
she pawned hers. 
He places a comically 
large Seashell to ear 
just to hear the sea 
scream for the past 
like him 
on most days.

 
She's OK Almost

She says but
her glazed eyes lost
pinpoints of
confusion
tell me different
and her
skin sallow
with track marks
I can't tell if
old or new
just that
they tell a story
I already know
the ending to.

We talk of poetry
we performed
once, together
apart
to smatterings of
applause long
ago. Of those we
thought we knew
under lights
spilling their souls
with captivating
corrupted
vehemence.

But she hasn't
read in years.
Tells me I look
like I'm doing well.
She's offended
when i ask if
she needs
money...
yet takes what I give
waving as she walks
away into the
darkness on
an unusually
otherwise bright
sunny day.

 
Ex On the Street

Not being invisible
or able to hide
when she spots
me first with
X-ray eyes.

The air, getting thinner
when she hugs me,
as if we’re still together,
as if that fatal night
hadn’t happened.

Then she says
that I look good,
that I’ve lost weight,
but I don’t and haven’t,
staring at her smiling face.

Love demands forgiveness
but losing your lover
& your best friend
in one cruel night
I never counted on.

I say goodbye 5 times.
It’s like she doesn’t hear
my last image of her,
him in her mouth,
in our bedroom, clear.

One of us was in love
and the other escaped
as I do now with alacrity
all shaken and wounded
by a past now present.


Rp Verlaine, a retired English teacher living in NYC, has an MFA in creative writing from City College. He has several collections of poetry including Femme Fatales Movie Starlets & Rockers (2018) and Lies From The Autobiography 1-3 (2018-2020). Rp’s work has been featured in Punk Noir, Ygdrasil, and Runcible Spoon.