“The Last Romantic” – Thomas Loudermilk

 “The Last Romantic” – Thomas Loudermilk


Sparse words spoken in between bars

         are enough to inspire

Delusions built upon tenuous experiences

         that are so by his own hand.


Yet another stone to roll uphill

          Against gravitational inevitability.

Inspired by a purpose selfish and deluded

         and affirmed by others with the same purpose.


The high horse, perpetually riderless,

         its reins held tightly

by him dragged due to his own misguided

          conceptualization of purpose.


The last of his kind: a convenient persona

          adopted and worn to render less pathetic

The totality of his attempts to be



But between the words there are glances,

         rapid and violent enough to

Conjure the Traditional Sanctity and Loveliness

         toward which he is dragged


Or imagines himself dragged. But

          the possibility of illusion is not enough.

For now, these few moments persist, suspended in

         Time and space.


It may be her: her voice, her eyes, and

         Their collective imposition on

His mind and heart, both so easily

          affected by such minutiae.


The turning of the engine is enough

          combustion to annihilate that conjuration,

antimatter to his material passion,

          energy enough to throw him again from the saddle.


An amalgamation of his life and love centralized

         And stuck in the concrete of the sidewalk

Between the bars and the car. Not lost, just suspended.

         And so, out of reach. 

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