Ian Gammie lives in Colorado. He has had prose appear in the Catalonian Review and Neon Literary Review, poetry in the Houston Literary Review, and a play performed at the 2009 Denver Thespian Conference. His poem tells of common feelings: loss and betrayal, but with some uncommon imagery.
Again with Fashion
By Ian Gammie
I’m reeling from tension,
revisiting rejection.
You’re warm now
unlike before. A young blurring,
enchanting,
deceiving disaster
who straddled my forearm
on seats made of plastic.
Where crayons colored canvas
like a magically modified,
unified,
beautified,
chalk-white complexion.
Shattering headaches awaited my arrival
when parallel models mimicked
dutiful drivers.
They laughed and flocked
to your sauntering sloppiness.
Sipping on merlot
while slipping through miseries,
I’m dreaming of fashion,
please say you remember me.
Wandering through dozens
of moldy old manuscripts,
spooning conventional cowards their cereal.
I built this simplicity on daily discoveries
in coffee ground jealousy
and heart wrenching infancy.
Again I’m spinning the
wheels of industry:
clammy young fingers with
two-timing symmetry.
I’m dying from dancing on ash ridden carpeting.
A well described travel through life.
I especially liked…Wandering through dozens of moldy old manuscripts.