Paula Meehan

I don't like writing poetry inspired by other poets because I'm not really sure what that means.  In this case... I was vaguely inspired by the mood and structure of "A Stray Dream," but I'll leave it up to you to interpret whether or not that inspiration was actually reflected in the poem, because I don't know.\

The air is bloated, thick with rain,

The heady funk of decay, autumn.

I trail you on the tidal flats, footsquelch,

Angry I’ve been left behind, a child to your six foot four,

Angry that we’re strangling one another

With silence, only the sullen splash of the gulls.

I can’t recall why I followed you here-

Something to do with clearing the air, I’m sure-

But now I can’t breathe.  You want

Everything I don’t have to give you.

The wind breathes heavy in my ears,

Weighting the quiet- I know how this will end.

In the kitchen, you will brush past me,

eyes only for the tea kettle.

In the hallway, you will nod, turned sideways,

and rush for the door.

I will drown in the dead air.