She smiled
her best hurricane smile
with lightening instead of teeth and
eyes at once anxious and unkind,
whispering first,
“you ain’t near good enough.”
Then,
“I’m probably going to **** you tomorrow.”
The gate has
an intimidating portcullis
secured with
a five dollar padlock
from Ace Hardware.
That’s enough to keep me out.
Over the high south wall I can see
broken glass treetops,
not so much reaching for the sky as
probing it for weaknesses.
I stand and stare
as day turns night.
Some far off moon rises;
a sickly crescent
that reminds me of
a smile
like a hurricane
with thunderheads
instead of dimples.
Suddenly
I am filled with dread
for tomorrow.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 1:16 PM UTC
She smiled
her best hurricane smile
with lightening instead of teeth and
eyes at once anxious and unkind,
whispering first,
“you ain’t near good enough.”
Then,
“I’m probably going to **** you tomorrow.”
The gate has
an intimidating portcullis
secured with
a five dollar padlock
from Ace Hardware.
That’s enough to keep me out.
Over the high south wall I can see
broken glass treetops,
not so much reaching for the sky as
probing it for weaknesses.
I stand and stare
as day turns night.
Some far off moon rises;
a sickly crescent
that reminds me of
a smile
like a hurricane
with thunderheads
instead of dimples.
Suddenly
I am filled with dread
for tomorrow.
