|Dark Poetry #5|
since 2006-09-14Posts 2423
beans in her ears -
Fingerbones clacking nicotine rhythms
of two copper pennies and a dead swan
in wine stains. Her crinoline’s crushed
torn at the seams in a dark city she wears
only sparks and an electrical cord so stark
so bare. The spires are there choking
on smoke stacks dissolving in thick air.
The wine’s in a finger bowl but host’s
slipped down into a boy’s pair of short pants.
Her body’s grass stains and yeasty knees
for the confessional but god’s on sabbatical
wearing cabbage for ears.
|© Copyright 2009 JenniferMaxwell - All Rights Reserved|
since 2011-01-30Posts 243
Wow, I love it.
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