Cellular Purge - No Replay

The reappearance of a past love can cause one to stop short and pause. So let's do that, for a moment. Please note the word, "past". There is a reason for the tense that causes one to become, well...tense.

Just last week a yo yo bounced back to me. Team, I wouldn't tell you to do anything I wouldn't do myself. Repeat after me: Cut. The. String. This can be a dangerous game for fragile hearts on both sides of the field. No reason to engage in such nonsense. Returns are for Macy's on the day after Christmas, not for dating.

Here's a little something for your consideration. I wrote it a long time ago, inspired by a sweet man who couldn't make up his mind between Houston and Moscow. I chose to make it a little easier (on myself). Harsh? Perhaps, but I've not regretted my decision, and I love the poem - even if I do say so myself.


Deleted (Cellular Purge)

Intersection break.

The NPR newsman
says the market's up
but housing's in slump.

Next car over a
gangster shouts a warning
to his backseat toddler
while his bass rocks the road.

Two train cycles
keep me sitting
through the light.

I think of leMetro.
I think of caviar and vodka.
I think of ICE and am suddenly cold.

Reaching for my phone I find the
entry and confirm that I want to

Delete?
1.Yes

The green arrow points my way west.
I follow the path homeward bound,
wrapped in the warmth of the sable sun.
Do svidania.




©Michelle Scofield All Rights Reserved