"You're not
one of them clowns,
right? One of 'em crazy...
boys - always fightin' in the street -
like dogs."
The air -
thick nylon smoke
with garter straps of bells.
machines whistled hot steam before
they gagged.
The man.
he turned to him,
face flushed long with gospel,
and began to chat - idle things.
and then.
It turned -
to chat of town,
prattle of industry,
and the crooked skeletons of
past home.
The ears.
it was the ears
that gave him away quick.
and the question had to be asked.
"Are you?"
Well...
He was.
Author notes
Cinquains.
Story about some long lost relatives... ask me about it sometime.
Comments
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im asking
this was really an interesting outline;
im sorry i didnt get to comment this sooner !
as usual though you've got me pinned in a corner not knowing what to say but all in all i enjoyed reading this; the images were vivid!
♥
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