Of Course Not Love

Of Course Not Love

 

I eat bananas and wait for you,

And I live not in St. E’s.

I would say it is your voice,

Not the clowns,

Down.

The neck is innocent enough,

Not the lower lip of your face,

Which no man touches or kisses,

Unless I am psychotic.

Shall we picnic?

I shall bring two, ripe Red Bartlett pears

And cherry milkshakes from the diner

We tried to visit on Christmas night.

I forgot to say Merry Christmas

And talked of my insanity on 22 July.

In one hundred words I would say I love you,

But I dare not be consumed by a cliché;

Besides I do not know you,

Woman,

But your voice,

Which walked with me

Calmly, oddly—was it one or two or three weeks ago?

 

About Tim Ruane

Tim Ruane is an artist and writer. He is a graduate of Georgetown University, where he studied English and art, and has worked as a chief copy editor in the editorial department of The Washington Post, where he has also worked as a freelance photographer. He has written hundreds of poems, two novels a number of short stories. His photographs have been published by The Washington Post, Simon & Schuster and The Good Men Project. He has shown his photographs at Potomac MD Public Library and is scheduled to be published in ShareArt LA, Circumfleks Magazine and Splinter Literary Journal. He will have an exhibition of his photographs in September at the offices of Prudential FedRealty in Washington D.C. Mr. Ruane lives and works in Garrett Park MD, just outside Washington D.C. USA.

Comments

  1. ManicDdaily says:

    A very cool poem with lots of great lines. My favorites:

    I forgot to say Merry Christmas

    And talked of my insanity on 22 July.

    In one hundred words I would say I love you,

    But I dare not be consumed by a cliché;

    K.

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