“The Spill”

This is just a poem I wrote for class, but it’s not really done. I feel like I’ve done what I want to with the words, but I’m debating changing the tense. It’s in past tense right now, but present might work. So I’ll give it to you both ways:

I watched the cascade
My shoulders slumped, then
I sprang forth and screamed
You scurried downstairs
As stories short-circuited

An empty streak of red shattered into snow
Signing its demise with a dent in the wall

I covered my head
And cursed that cup

I found you, cowering in the corner
Green eyes fearful under a table
Your quiet crashed.
Held down and panicked,
My face violating yours,
You choked on my rage, cut my arm and ran away

Penitent, I came and coddled you
Picking up the plastic shards as you watched
We sat in silence and agreed in sorrow
Something trivial shouldn’t hurt so much

Ok, or in the present tense:

I watch the cascade
My shoulders slump, then
I spring forth and scream
You scurry downstairs
As stories short-circuit

An empty streak of red shatters into snow
Signing its demise with a dent in the wall

I cover my head
And curse that cup

I find you, cowering in the corner
Green eyes fearful under a table
Your quiet crashes.
Held down and panicking,
My face violating yours,
You choke on my rage, cut my arm and run away

Penitent, I come and coddle you
Picking up the plastic shards as you watch
We sit in silence and agree in sorrow
Something trivial shouldn’t hurt so much

 

Copyright 2010 Andrew Whiting

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About andrewwhiting

A sentimental and sarcastic poet, lover of language, traveling and nature (not a fan of the Oxford comma).
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3 Responses to “The Spill”

  1. Kavita says:

    whoa!! This was powerful stuff!
    Loved the title!! And either tense sounds great…
    Only, I would love for it to have been in the past! :)

    Very nicely written!

    • Thank you! I’m torn, because a number have people preferred the past tense, and a number preferred the present tense. I wrote it originally in past, however, and I feel like it carries a weight of an apology of sorts that way.

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