Weather Girl
She’s perky.
The wind churns through sparrows;
death strikes with its usual toothy banality.
Windows are blown out,
hurricanes fart blood.
The weather girl flaps her arms,
pushes nipples into the camera,
winks.
Tears will be shed somewhere,
but for now
we smile, we nod
eye on a different focus.
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.
