Ed Baker

The Touch

In this dark and quite
place
she handed me another

straight-up double whiskey
clearly as chilled as was her
hands her lips crossed

the room and quickly met
in a moment I could not
get out of

 

 


The Touch

what thinking
demands
walking
up Sugar Loaf

resolves

up north side
over grown ivy

valley below overcome
with smoke’s pungent
cloud

just beyond the stench
the source of the waste

felt her and my skin
itched up bristled my
hair

image against rock
pinned against with
an old fountain pen

oh, to linger and at
least strip down to
see her loosely held
together.

“We have a complex
relationship.

“My father was a garbage
man.

“Picked me up every day.

“I was young and knew
nothing.

“Oh the stink he made of
me.”

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