Robert L. Penick
I’d like to find some desiccated
shell of a woman, tired of failure and
full of nervous tics, always pushing
her hands out into the dark, beyond
the candlelight and television glow,
reaching into the abyss of night
to rummage for her meaning.
Let her be a whore, a former fool
or someone who bet on the wrong man
and lost, badly, wearing the scars,
tracks, and crow’s feet as proof that life
can be an endless stream of rejection slips
from parents, lovers, schools, banks,
employers, and God.
Let us find one another and step
quietly into shadows of our own
devising; let us grow mad
with genius, fat with promise, and
let us carve ourselves into this world
like brilliant, beautiful wounds.
Robert L Penick’s poetry and prose have appeared in over 100 different literary journals. More of his work can be found here.