Evening, spent.
By Aaron Altman
Published: March 05, 2009
Published: March 05, 2009
Rambling. Listless. In a fight, fistless.
For the mill, gristless. No substance. Gistless.
Forlorn’d. Unadorned. Dead, and not mourned. Birthed, not born.
Unangelic; horned. / Crazy’d; crazed. Confused and dazed.
Minotaur, mazed; Laz’rus, unraised.
Evening, spent. Moonless and bent.
Flatlined, zeroed, in a descent.
Capital given; capital spent.
Wishing you’d gone.
wishing I’d went.


Fantastic. Bravo.
Toothache?
Lovely. Truly.
Beautiful, Aaron. Thank you.
Several words come to mind – brilliance, jealousy, whatever word can signify a standing ovation without being overly explanatory. The last two lines stir something deep inside me, and I don’t know whether to sigh in relief or cry out in sadness.
Well done.
AA: Why, why did I have to read this at 3:30 am? It all makes complete sense at this moment, which it was, I assume, supposed to do. And now I shall drift off to sleep thinking of whether which choice was better. Listless. This is more than beautiful right now.
Thank you, AA.
Speaking as someone who is ambivalent at best about contemporary poetry… you make me want to go there again. Please, write more. Please publish – if you haven’t already. And, if you have, tell me where I can find it. Gawker PM!
I have supped your milkshake. And it was good.
Bitten by cuspid. Truly outstanding. Keep ‘em coming ION
I imagine you declaiming this loudly on a dimly lit stage. You finish, suddenly crumble the paper, hurl it to the ground, turn around, and walk quickly away into the darkness.
Once again, I love it.
you. are. so. great.
truly. truly.