Poetry · Writing

Danger:

Post date on everything

(feeling the mail climb to dangerous hoarder level)

dust hugged the curtains like a war veteran

and I’ll feel jealous as an ex lover.

The pens ink soils my hands

(I promised I’d be better)

the liar blinks past like the Flash

and this-

this is Flash Point

and I’m Nora.

Blood dried on my lip

chewing like tabacoo

and the phone will ring.

Covered by yesterday ad covered

by yesterday’s ad and last night’s leftovers

where you’ll find me-

shaking

holding a pen hostage

waiting for it to tell thee story.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s