close to his, as when he fettled the garden so did she. He dug his borders, she dug hers, cut his grass she did hers. They were polite to one another, said “Good Morning.” She gave him advice on how to change a plug. He admired the tattoos on her thighs. Her boyfriend stood at their open kitchen door with a frown. His wife pointed out weeds he had missed.
“No Words” five poem sequence kindly featured by Jamie Dedes in The Poet By Day
response to the most recent Wednesday Writing Pompt https://jamiededes.com/2017/05/23/the-doctrine-and-other-poems-in-response-to-the-most-recent-wednesday-writing-pompt/ via @JamieDedes
Many thanks to Reuben for publishing this in I Am Not A Silent Poet
Source: ontology
is real.
My smile was a pink balloon
floated above me. I sang.
A big bang.
Blood on the balloon.
I find metal nuts and bolts.
I can’t sing. It isn’t real.
in uncut green glitter donned by chequered flat cap on black ant heads in shadow clock plastic skyscraper binding long days into century after century a vast bustled empire birth place embryo where money dramatised into kisses and betrayal and anguish among bright blades and discarded things.
Source: Kept Promises | Paul Brookes
Source: Post Factual Poem | Paul Brookes
