Please click play to enjoy an audio reading
So here we were.
Again.
Staring at each other,
this time over a hamburger
during a late lunch.
And I can’t drink this
fucking beer fast enough.
I need to get out of this zone.
The more she doesn’t say
anything, and stares at me or
into space, the more my head pounds.
It throbbed the second we got up,
partly because I was dreading
the day that would be coming.
She was still pissed about
our talk which never gets
us anywhere, but here,
staring at each other
over a hamburger.
Again.
"Over A Hamburger" by Anthony Venutolo is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. Hosted by The Internet Archive, download MP3 here. Music by 'kaponja' Guitar Arpeggio" and provided by Freesound.
Damn. I love your prose poems and now you've gone and added another awesome layer - the audio recordings. I can picture this scene perfectly.
ReplyDeleteMagical stuff Anthony, you are surely an enlightened creativist.
ReplyDeletePorl
My audio's not working!!! Can I request a personal reading?
ReplyDeleteIt's working just fine...
ReplyDeleteAnother BB classic audio prose poem. "I've been doing a lot of thinking..." -- argh! I'd say he should just cut to the chase, neck the beer, and start on the whiskey.
ReplyDeleteNext time, try some lasagna with lots of gooey, melted cheese and a nice red wine. She'll talk, honey...she'll talk. And so will you, and your headache will go away and you'll both lick your lips a lot and look into each other's eyes. You'll get somewhere, I promise.
ReplyDeleteOh, I think Madam Z is on to something. ;p
ReplyDeleteThis prose is sketched like an oil painting in my mind. I see a diner, two sullen people trying to pretend nothing is wrong when everything is wrong. The hamburger gives it a sense of normalcy.
Another fantastic write and audio. Thank you, Anthony.
Love the audio!
ReplyDeleteSo quit peeking into my life would ya!
Once a week I experience this not a u.s. diner but over a bad Skype connection, "I been doin a LOT of thinking and . . . n't feel rig. . . u'r a guy of my drea . problms not y . . ut the distan. . . jst don' . .. . see how I ca. . . mke this . .yu'r so youn' . . .u take, i giv. . . am runnin on emp . . ."
Yeah . . . every week. Hard to let go when all that is wrong is the timing.
Thanks for a great poem!
I'm late here, but as always, am glad I stopped by to catch this one. Those uncomfortable relationship moments...and the oddities that encompass them - excellent!
ReplyDeleteSorry, I'm late. I've been away. This is a great prose poem.
ReplyDeleteI like Madam Z's comments.
I could not here the audio. I'm not sure why.I cranked everything up.
oops, I did it again.
ReplyDeleteJeanette Cheezum
Hey Ant, followed your link here from Spoken Sunday...
ReplyDeletePaul Brazill said it best 9 months ago...you really are good at this!!! Glad I caught it!
Slice of life with a side of real.
ReplyDeleteAnthony - very cool. It's one thing for my eyes to read it. Quite another to hear the one who penned the words speak them. Personal. Sexy.
ReplyDeleteThe repitious and haunting guitar strum in the background really captures the mood of this slice of life prose poem. The simple honesty of it appeals to me a great deal. I've read this one before and I don't know if it was in your archive or if I stumbled across it in an ezine, but I remember it and that says something, because had I not enjoyed it - I would have forgotten it completely. Good job, Anthony.
ReplyDelete