Dan Provost

Not Quick Enough
(Retort to Neruda’s You Start Dying Slowly)

Sorry Neruda.
My demise is a fastball.
Improvement of self-esteem has
dwindled to muffled applause for leaving
the bedroom.

Habits cling to defeated prosperity,
as I stare out a window—eying nothing
but lost children, looking for their parents.

My paths are impounded.
My colors have always been dark & banal.
Self-deprecation or an existence
in torment.
My eyes are dead.
Soul has kept sadness intact.

Dreams, just false, internal slop—feeding
off my fears & inadequacies.

No Pablo,

My death is almost here.
A gift from the demons who laughed
just outside my touch.

Kicking.
Ridiculing.

Found on every
journey I failed
to complete.

Dan Provost’s poetry has been published both online and in print since 1993.  He is the author of 15 books/chapbooks, including the upcoming Wolf Whistles Behind the Dumpster, which will be available in late 2022, courtesy of Roadside Press.  He has been nominated twice for best of the web and has read his works throughout the United States.  He lives in Berlin, New Hampshire with his wife, Laura and dog, Bella.