And now our (totally optional) prompt. I’m a sucker for a good mystery novel, especially the hard-boiled noir novels of the thirties and forties. There’s always a two-timing blonde, a city that keeps its secrets, and stuck in the middle, a man who just can’t help but rabbit after truth. Today I challenge you write a poem inspired by noir — it could be in the voice of a detective, or unravel a mystery, or just describe the long shadows of the skyscrapers in the ever-swirling smog. After all, “you know how to write a poem, don’t you, Steve? You just pick up a pen and you write.”
WEDNESDAY, 9th APRIL 2013
I do, I clearly do remember what happened that day.
It was Monday, 8th, April 2012.
I woke up
I washed and shaved my face
I had breakfast
I went to work
I did the same shit i did everyday.
When I came back home I found a letter from abroad, impossible to see exactly where it came from.
Inside, I found a picture of a stabbed unicorn, turning on a carousel, crying blood.
And a message. written in the left corner, in capital letters: ” LOVE IS THE SWEETEST DEATH. ”
I threw it away. I thought it was probably a joke made by some kids.
It has been one year now since I received that letter.
And I am now writing my own one.
A suicide love note.
367 days ago my life had no sense because there was no love.
I found it eventually, I trusted it, I believed in it.
Then, suddenly it was taken away from me.
Love was able to see my soul, to find it, and then steal it.
And now, I feel like an empty book,
laying on a shelf among other useless old books,
completely aware that nobody will ever look at me again, or search my name.
And so World excuse me, while I live you behind.
All I can say is that if could come back,
I WOULD STILL CHOOSE THE SWEETEST DEATH.
with love, by a man who could love.
a.aime
aaimepharmacy 