The sticky smell of molded odor
burrows through the breathing bowels
as sweaty souls perspire
and cellar dweller deals
the devil deuces
but holding threes he's
in his mind already spent
six dollars on deodorant.
A contest entry
- prompt inspired, 16 entries, 8 lines by Grey Mouser.
600 points, ended December 11, 2007, 11 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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ROFL, wonderfully creative and very well done. Now this is an odor that wadts out and can really use some coverage. Thanks for entering into the contest.
Be well and be blessed,
Mouser -
Great write, good take on the prompt, best of luck to you in your contest
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Interesting write. You took this in a whole new direction . Best of luck in the contest
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LOL...OMG...
uhh...I'm embarassed to post my poem now...
you went in another direction entirely cowboy...
although...we are both penning emotional pain...LOL
as usual your clever ink is pungent...with
wit!
Blessings! Tammy
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Creatively you! Nice take on the prompt...so well done in thye style of you...I truely enjoyed this and the last 2 lines said it all...I understand this more then you will ever know.
Best to you!
Love
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