Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2011
It's as uncertain as death is certain.
Fish grapple at hooks and answers.
Pointy elbows scraped on bricks. Bruises.
Soap-making kits collecting dust.
      Nobody wants them.
      Nobody wants you.
A twelve-cent stamp doesn't get anyone
      anywhere these days.
Ruth Forberg
Written by
Ruth Forberg  Chicago
(Chicago)   
980
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems