Screaming became the speech of choice
to wrap little fingers
all the way around the cord
Caused by minor fractures of vertebrate
as they trample past the dead body
conscious of little more
than their own
Attempting to pull themselves up
in a bucket
and out of an iron casket
where their skin spent the night
Streaming
Past the street-side graves
where the Past lingers on its way,
speaking with Death,
his lazy companion, and
working to take our bodies slow
But the bucket never holds
and broken bodies won’t hold their skin
On men built for coffins
in graves made for men
Author notes
Welcome to the day-to-day. Tomorrow, more of the same.
-Thefallout
A contest entry
- Best Prewrites From February 2008 by amaranthine lover.
3150 points, ended March 28, 2008, 36 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Worthy of Gold by Virgoan.
900 points, ended April 17, 2008, 73 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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excellent...love the whole piece.
thanks for sharing and keep writing.
HENSLEY
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this is worthy of gold to me any day
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well, I'm glad you like it. Ha, inspired by a sign I saw diving home from the cities in the middle of rush hour. Traffic's slow enough to give me time to write a poem while I'm driving. Not safe, I suppose, but hey, I like it.
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