The Beer Cans Are Still Here ~ by Bob Kesh
When we were together
the room was filled with my empty beer cans
and her clothes.
. . . the beer cans are still here.
At first it was all perfume
and cigarettes.
Then naked skin
and dirty sheets.
Then
greasy hair
and baggy eyes.
Then,
nothing.
. . . the beer cans are still here.
All that was left of her were,
two pairs of knickers,
and some dirty photos.
. . . the beer cans are still here.
I’d come out
worn down but not beaten.
I had a lot left but nothing to do with it.
Fire in my soul
and head
but not in my
heart,
or
hands.
I settled down to the bottom
and waited.
…the beer cans are still here.
It seems,
there will be
more
… empty
beer cans.
