Swell poem

[The first line is from Counterman by Paul Violi for Everyday Poems.]

That would be swell,
I thought,
hanging up the phone
and rushing for the door.
Swell, swell–
the plans were made.
I smiled to myself,
though I was late,
and I smiled to the doorman,
though he never looks at me.
Outside, the wind blew open
the jacket I had failed to zip,
and I thought,
What a swell world!
I took it all in,
every swell ounce of it,
and I gave it back
to every person I passed.
It’s so swell, isn’t it?
I wanted to ask.
But I wasn’t really asking.
And no one was answering
anyway.
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s