I'm in a pink house somewhere between T.S. Eliot and George Formby, Althia and Donna.
Leaner The colour of hunger is dry and yellow; a skin stretched taut and a mouth too wide for her teeth. Ironical smiles merely taste bitter, brittle leaves breaking meander and flutter; clothes which once fit her shrug from the shoulders, shimmy and plummet to a threadbare carpet speckled with vomit. In the mirror naked her eyes are blinkered, a tunnel vision of limelight receding, drowning and sunken. Her fruit is withered, blistered and shrunken; easily bruised, no longer bleeding.
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Eastnor Castle Easter Monday (18/09/2014)
Wild Geese in Tesco (26/02/2014)
And when we were sat in the Odeon (28/11/2013)
He knew the score (25/11/2013)
Soul Music (18/02/2013)
Potted History (13/02/2013)
When I Was Your Father (08/02/2013)
My Favourite Glass (04/02/2013)
Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/raymiller
Viewed 3669 times since 14 Sep 2012
Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.