Thursday 26 November 2009

#13 - Hurricane Futures

We'll watch cows and red pickups
double helixing and think
do you remember the days
before this felt clichéd?

Gusts will be expected to pluck
a gobbet of peach ice cream
from one punter's cone and drop it
intact in the socket of someone's

cup and ball game fifteen miles
down the road. We will yawn at
clattering shutters, maelstroming
uprooted mailboxes, their little red flags

clacking up then down, like a critic
sighing: 'Next!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.