Where's the diamond dust,
my Cost-Plus pirate queen?
You washed your blouse in an overpriced, mildewed washing machine.
You've got lips like iced paper -
feels like a rusty window-scraper when I touch your hair -
the blue heat of a departing flare
blossoms like love on a Hawaiian shore . . .
a couple alone in a deserted, fragile world
made of porcelain,
or those flannel fishnet whores
that paved Los Angeles's streets in gold -
wearing masks made of powder so they never grow old.
A contest entry
- Thank you, Carolyn by Sonja.
5000 points, ended July 17, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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Very interesting flow and rhyme. This poem must be read loud because it brings a great reason to ponder of this world and the way you say it with your fine written verses.
~Sonja~
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i love this poem!!!! its so real.
nicee.
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