Our cigarettes smolder
worms twist soil,
like hands on dirty skin.
It was as if wings sputtered the shore,
only to watch sand melt into
palms;
the cases were docked, fermented
and cylinders were full
at one point,
I'm damn sure.
But he wore his mask,
believably,
painted and selective
to the shades:
a breeze before rain,
even as
the Earth was dry
before crop failure.
And the worms eat at ash
while our cigarettes burn out.
Author notes
Rough draft.
Inspiration: Come Round by Sarah Bareilles
Current theme song for my relationship.
A contest entry
- .slave to detail. by girl shaman.
500 points, ended September 27, 2008, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
My only critique here is to cut the "and" out of the beginning...Once you get to "while", it just feels like it's out of place. I don't like "earth" capitalized towards the end of the poem, buy hey, to each their own. The ending "and" works...As it is a leading image...But I honestly think you could have left that first one out and it still would have had that intensity. Even the "but" could go in that second stanza...But again, these are only observations...I'm just thinking of a way to transition smoother as a whole. Sometimes my mind works things out in my head as I go along. These observations aside, I had a few ideas in mind while reading this and perhaps that's why I stumbled over a few places...But the expression is solid nonetheless and yes that ending is like flicking ask...It seems so adamant and yet, disinterested...Like "it is what it is".
Thought provoking piece.
;
Adding your comment:
