Thursday, March 13, 2014

Horror for St Patrick's Day -- a new poem from David S Pointer

Four Leaf Clover Bar

David S. Pointer


I turned a thousand generations

of coffin lid screws searching

for her, hoping to pull out her

death stake, but tonight green

beer law enforcement boys are

coming down hard as an old

Prohibition hatchet over the

keg barrels, swarming the bar,

the entire city party block --

fang swordplay would be

highly appropriate and give

this Chi-town city a St. Patty’s

Day massacre they could be

famous for, yet I feel the

nocturnal need to remain

a thirsty, silent, inactive

throat solider digging

ever closer to her red

burial remains rising

towards a new-melt

like mourners candles

No comments:

Post a Comment