Tuesday, 7 April 2009

Day 7, Scraping the Barrel.

Today's poem is brought to you by Wheetos cereal, and the Union Of Undervalued Scarecrows.
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Bad Alice

you wouldn't let me leave,
so I suckered on like a loose-limb
flapping in your socket;

soreness spread like a stain, and
you shook me off, itch beneath
your skin;
terse reminder of your voyeur days.

my hair snapped like a brittle wrist
between your forefinger and thumb;
pulled apart, crows picked at the straw.

I fell back, spat-up a claw,
gathered my edges.

watching the harvest,
I sank into a field full of eyes.

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