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 Nov 2012 Alireza Zibaie
ju
Impunity
 Nov 2012 Alireza Zibaie
ju
A uniform, a badge.
A florescent jacket.

(Worn with pride?)

Law isn’t applied
to its keepers.
I had hoped these words would mean much less, be less accurate, by 2020.
I poured myself a drink,
Sat at my desk,
I tried to write,
But I just couldn't form words,
He was the only thing in my mind,
I couldn't take the remembering,
I just couldn't forget,
I wanted him here.

The bartender poured me a double,
I sat at the bar,
I wanted to call her,
But I didn't know what to say,
She's so good with her words,
I can't take her not being here,
I can't forget her in any way.

They tossed and turned ideas,
One to the other,
They wanted each other,
But they both didn't know what to do,
So they sat with there tears and alcohol,
Trying to figure it out,
An arm reach away,
But they wouldn't reach out.
you told me you had lost your muse,
the first night we had met,
i glanced over and blushed into
the overhead lights,
i wasn't about to volunteer
my own self
but i secretly knew

i could be her
she's gorgeous
that's all i seem to know

and when your eyes start to glaze over
i can't, i need
to look away
you complain to me, whisper in slow syllables,
"this is how it's supposed to be"
my stomach in knots and my hands twisted
i can't, i need
to become her
(suddenly i regret the way my smile curves,
i regret the shape of my body against hers)
and to look at her pursed lips
makes me sick
to think
back onto your thoughts

...rewinding
and i don't care how long it takes
for me to

leave
forget,
leave
forget,

a sick cycle,
a circle that spins,
and i become the center
twirling again,
and again,
over her and what wasn't said
comparisons are eating me alive.
maybe i should have been better,
you always said it was a competition,
and i was never in first place,
no matter how many times you came back
to kiss me, and you always kissed me well
well, this is all i have left
all i have left to show for this self-doubt
a morning hangover, and your side
is empty

i'm always cold,
with(out) you here
so cliche.
Between rivers
there is a sadness
a cool, calm
waiting
for life to come
or death
I am not sure
which.
I wrote this in 1976, one of the only poems I remember from the literary magazine I edited at my high school!
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