04 April 2011

Gold-Braid Peacock

Day 4, PAD challenge. Prompt: "pick a type of person and write a poem about him/her."

you are for all time, like the
poverty, death, disease you
breed as you strut, peacock-feathered,
stiffened with gold braid as
volleys of ancient Kalashnikovs
fruitlessly pierce the sky

the blood dripping from your
pure gold taps--does it taste good?

or does it cramp your stomach, like
that of a child crying for cereal while
her mother faints in the sun?

No comments: