Window fall

In all her own new time
known poor young woman future
tenth-time cat fall
there were no dogs waiting
told in weight of yesterday’s rain
casualty laundry trampled by lazy feet
gifted key-in coins by Power
quickening light mental arithmetic skill-set gravitas
she told me once, she stuck a stick into her street’s melting tar and waited for a vision that didn’t see her
the dead geriatric, on his way to a wedding, who pissed on the taxi driver’s front passenger seat, involved her
all their mothers have heads

 

 

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This entry was posted in poem, poetry, prose, poet, creative writing, writing and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Window fall

  1. Kurt says:

    I love your style! “all their mothers have heads”… brilliant!

    Liked by 1 person

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