Return To Sender
The wind is bickering with the night
My poor house caught up in the middle
Pawing and retreating then pouncing like a cat
It drums at the windows and
Haunts a ricochet around the room
Of some rendez-vous echo where
The downtrodden beat downward
Into my valley, the new address of Lillith
Or Hydra, the war waging outside
Breaking careful silence like a train
Chuffing me slowly away with
The cars zooming in the wayside
Burnt out, the relay challenging
Me to find my own way into sleep
Depravation or a Concentration Camp
A womb must sound like this
Haunted and forboding. But, what foetus
Could ever know much better
Than to be scared out of new skin?
Calling for Hercules or a prescription
Some tablets and a glass of gin
To wipe away the world
Reentering anonymity and concentration
Camping myself in the ocean, a bag
For the dead, that little gold fish
Floating around within the carrier
Tonight, I sleep in the womb
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
