She lays her hand on his shoulder
at the checkout stand. But he won't
go with her, and shakes his head.
She insists! He pays. She walks out
with him to his big car, takes one look,
laughs at it. Touches his cheek.
Leaves him with his groceries
in the parking lot. Feeling foolish.
Feeling diminished. Still paying.
by Raymond Carver
For more about the poet, Raymond Carver, see:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raymond_Carver
For more about the poet, Raymond Carver, see:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raymond_Carver
Thanks for posting this, Andrew - I love Raymond Carver's poems as much as I love his short stories - more possibly, because they're more his own.
ReplyDeleteYes, he was a master of the spare, the succinct. I love all his genres. He could get to the heart of matters so sparingly and poignantly and beautifully. Pity that he battled alcoholism for most of his adult life. Why is it so often that artistic people have a lot of inner demons?
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