Words by Alan Catlin

We were always one drink from
love or war in those days.
Investing quarters we could not spare
in jukebox songs we did not understand,
“I started a joke, it started the whole world crying….”
she would say and I would reply,
“It’s only words and words are all I have…”
And we would play fight with plastic
knives and forks pretending to be
characters in a play like Romeo and Juliet
on the cold side of some moon evoked in
another song, on the playlist that defined
our lives, until the fights would become
real and our time together became a B side
only kind of love, like the flip side
of “Words”. ”So I say to myself is it real?
So I look inside myself Can I feel?”
A Sinking Ship that became
Too Much of Nothing that became
a Saturday Night Fever we could never
have imagined or hoped to see.
Long before the first disco ball spun
our eyes were blinded by the light.

Alan Catlin
Alan Catlin is the poetry editor of misfitmagazine.net. His latest books of poetry are American Odyssey from Future Cycle and Last Man Standing from Lummox Press
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