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Welcome !	Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link	22-November 14:57:27 AEST

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Contributed by screwge on Sunday, 3rd August 2008 @ 01:06:48 AM in AEST
Topic: abstract

It is nine-thirty, headed for the optometrist.
Out of my right pocket I produce a profound list
Of today’s rebuffs against customary eye sores --
Weed-addled flowers and similar chores.

I would eat the sky because the sky I crave.
About your gossipy lips I’d rave
Because I woke up with one eye blind,
So I heard extra sharp how I was maligned.

While my husband drifted off to sleep,
I stayed up with one eye to keep
And entertained the image of a Cyclops,
His bereft glory displayed in candy shops.

My neighbors caught wind of my need to invoke
The monsters behind me, the allied folk --
And my incessant pursuit to pester
Each who could qualify as an ancestor.

I no longer trust those I once called “friend.”
I don’t wait to crane my neck before reaching a bend.
I have heard many a savage gossip
Unfurl from your only lip.

Copyright Â© screwge ... [ 2008-08-03 01:06:48]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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