The naked truth of hijacked leaves
when tree reveals a mockingbird
the wind with knives— the season’s thieves
applauds the loss of innocence
soprano song his spoken word
as summer turns a villainess
his merriment in verse she steals
to feed the winter’s sinfulness
where hunger flies and cries and kneels
to gods a songster’s soul appeals
the guilty— nylon-stocking blurred
...as ic’cles grieve neath ice-damned eaves
Categories:
nylon stocking, betrayal, bird, grief, innocence,
Form: Rhyme
On A Nail
Dust pan on a nail.
Worn out burgundy sofa in the corner.
A scratched window pane
and empty liquor bottles.
Bruised black banana in a brown bowl.
A discarded nylon stocking.
Lipstick marks on a cracked mirror
and tear-stained tissue paper.
A ripped up photograph on a bureau.
A dusty blanket and a broken porcelain vase.
Torn lace panties.
Spilled contents from a cheap jewelry box.
Dust pan on a nail.
Dried up toothpaste in the wash basin.
Fourteen strands of blond in the bristles of a brush.
A gaping green purse.
Rosary beads scattered on a scarlet bed spread.
Red strangulation marks on a svelte neck.
Stiff yellow corpse in the shower.
Two eyes bulging from crusty sockets.
Blood stains on the tile floor.
A black dagger next to a white bathtub.
Stale yellow liquid in a toilet bowl.
Dust pan on a nail.
Categories:
nylon stocking, death, yellow,
Form: Blank verse