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128th Weekly Poetry Contest winner: nerves never lead to anything except shaking hands and sloppy footing

by holdenlyric

and every city is a ghost town haunted by memories of you and her and him and them and us and still i can’t stop thinking every time i drive my car through the four a.m. fog that these ghosts with all of their nerve need to vacate and i need to vacate this town and that town and this city and that song because no matter where i go there is your car driving in my peripheral vision there is your silhouette in my rearview mirror there is your pride hanging on my neighbor's front porch there is your silkworm sonnet sitting in the back of my closet there is your gravy ghost dripping on the pavement etching memories in the wet concrete here is the jackhammer i use to break you there you go tire marks on my skin there you go tarot cards predicting me and pinning me down to be sorry and spineless there you go goose-stepping on my grave there you go voodoo hands poking holes in my raggedy heart there you go gritty ghost playing jenga with my patience there you are there you are there you aren't

See all the entrants to 128th Weekly Poetry Contest