ashlee workman
ashlee workman is a poet from carpentersville, il. she likes to drink. she also likes to paint, so dig her paintings, which go with each poem. you can also email her at
arworkman7@yahoo.com.
Ever Watchful
I don't want to wash my hands
The smell of the earth makes me grin
My good fortune embedded in my hands
I sit here ever watchful wiping away the rouge speckled freckles from my neck
Looking back waiting for him to magically crawl out of the earth
Crawl out like some lost misery bent worm
Crawl out to look for some way to make me suffer
Some way to make me repent for my sins
This was a long time framing
He had to have known that he wouldn't be able to hide out in Auxerre
I tracked him from the Cathedral of St. Etienne
Down the road he drove and I shadowed him safely behind in the dark
I was lucky that he picked his home a bit out of the city
I came up behind him with such malice
My cunning plan startled his life into arrest
The key is to keep your head above raging waters
The more waves a man can pour in on you, the stronger you have to tread
And then to break even, bury that man in just enough dirt to match the water
It's harder to swim in dirt
I'll keep an eye over my shoulder but I won't expect much
After all he was never a very good swimmer
Professor Stalker
He lights a cigarette in the alley
Shuffling his loafers in anticipation
Waiting for the cat to leave her last prey
An eyelash bat from her lead to a two month chasing of his dignity
The affair was over once she got her grade
Once a noted pedagogue and respectable human being, now a lingering mess
He can't leave her alone
He can't forget
Such a young pretty thing with an ulterior malicious intent
To run a man in the ground for marks and happily indulged mayhem
A prestigious college where a girl can exchange sex for opportunities baffles his brain
He studied of Romanticism and was a believer in words
Now he smokes his Marlboro's in a dingy alley, following his collegiate piece of ass
Wanting her soul in trade for his virtue back
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