9 To ?
Three little bodies
of three little strangers
that looked like
three best friends
posed with a
slump poise
next to an open
cylindrical
garbage container
that had it lid
kneeling against
the feet
of the can
and weeping sadness
fine drenching mist
of red tears.
Red tears
shaped like crosses
that bear
inscriptions
into the infinites
of victims,
who’ve splashed
their own mist
of redness
Against their wills
in factories
fields
and as
probing objects.
It won’t be long
till
three little interviews
will commence
for this position.
.
Copyright © Solus Mcknight | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment