celibate


this world is one of grim shifts
a man sits in a bookstore
for some combination of years
and minutes

he can't see betting the soft part
of his grief even if it means winning
the woman who could cure it
unfortunate music

plays in his ears, he knows every
word because they are the lyrics
of his childhood, what was once
carved into desks

now hangs in the trees like
christmas lights there only to further
define the darkness he swallows every
evening with his pills

but the thin man in him that wants
love is wearing his defenses down
like a hungry prosecutor
finally this man -

any man - stands and approaches
the brunette by the self-help books
who is any woman,
every woman -

he asks if those pages have any answers
she turns to him like a deer
and in one otherworldly flash
he wonders if simply crying
might work best.
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Peter Schwartz
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Peter Schwartz has been practicing the craft of poetry for over 20 years.  His work has appeared in 100 print and online journals.  Those journals include: Asheville Poetry Review, Epicenter, and VOX to name a few.  He's an art editor at the multimedia site Mad Hatters' Review and lives in a place where it is always snowing.  www.sitrahahra.com