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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4422 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention A Yellow Doomsday Dress OWLcrkbrg Crows don't chastise the bums, it's raptors that raise their ire while rain beats the avenues littered with rusted souls downed on the powdered poppies that have them wan and cornered. Church bells don't rattle pagans here; paper Watchtowers fade by bus stop posts. Yard-sale signs on power poles point the way to exercise machines, National Geographic magazines driveway-cheap while Wanda's hooked corner turns cold. The law has bumped her down to Tacoma; we're both victims of last night's token sweep. A folly of sirens punctures Puget Sound. They are ignored while the ciy's marble hips and steel backs crack under shattered clouds. Blasted panes shred suits and rags. Those at home melt face-first in front of screens behind irrelevant doors. I could have worn a yellow dress today, sang falsetto ballads of knights and Indian sunsets while my neighbor and I meet outside, brush daisies with our noses, check the scores before we burn free as dreams of madmen, children, and Gods among smoldering stems. |
