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Poetry by Jeff Peeples 

Jeff Peeples is a writer, therapist, teacher, and Dean of Students and Counseling at a private Christian school. He lives in Milton, Georgia.




© 2007 Jeff Peeples







That Is Not What I Meant at All


If one, settling a pillow by her head,

Should say: "That is not what I meant at all.

That is not it, at all."
- T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"



And she set her teacup down on the table at the O.K. Cafe.
She said nothing.

I knew I had passed the dagger, handle first, her way,
And face-forward turned my back.

(May the lady have a heart
With a side of bitter dipping sauce?)

She sipped again.
Nervous, not thirsty.

"Maybe you misunderstood." I made
Odd noises on the diner vinyl.

(The clock is ticking loudly
Like a sharpening guillotine.)

"I meant, like friends..."
And she rose and left the room.












All work is copyrighted property of Jeff Peeples.






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