I love being a passenger on a road trip. This month I’ve been “practicing” writing 50 word poems.
FYI: I consider these works in progress. All of which means they may be changed up in minutes or days.
*
A Billboard in Afton
Shackled by lust? As if Jesus might
not have been. How those Marys came
and went. They too must have felt
desire, to be set free not unlike those
cattle mired in mud and manure,
longing for more than spent hay
the end of winter.
*
Locked
Once upon a time the sofa outside
the locked up second hand store
on Main Street must have spent
hours on its appearance. Just
imagine it: faded floral sheets
laid over the once magenta
velour cushions. Yellowed
batting pummeled winter after
winter by snowmelt and piss.
March 22, 2024
blackhen 