written in 2003. I want to take a break…transcribing one collection has taken its toll. I am so tired…after this poem, I’ll give transcribing a break…carry on sometime next week…too many poems in this next collection (can’t even attempt to do it just yet…too much)


I give my halfway man

Neither hers nor mine

A halfway look 

Neither smile nor frown

That kind of tells him, I guess, I am vexed

He does not say a thing, just walks past me

And I wonder why he does not take me seriously 

As I kind of talk to him, I guess, kind of tell him

How I feel at being left at home all day

Without so much as ‘by the way’

I guess my halfway man

Neither hers nor mine 

Kind of loves me in a way

I cannot put my finger on

So I just stay in this halfway house 

That is not quite home

And hope that one day, sometime soon, I hope

He will kind of, I guess, take me seriously 


2003 copyright reserved 


My 2003 ‘self’ could not stand men who played the field and women who condoned it.

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