Drenched
They throw words at you
like paint, grease,
cow dung
some of them stick
to the walls
of your mind
stain your
entrances and exits
Stage right
a man is selling
newspapers
you walk past
pulpits, parliaments
protests, placards
everyone’s doing it
It’s like a poetry slam
and you’re tongue-tied
forget your lines
so go home, strip
take a shower
Words disintegrate
dissolve, wash away
in a mush of syllables
disappear down the drain
Outside it’s raining
prayers, threats and
broken promises
To Go Back To
SEARCH RESULTS
Hit your browser's
BACK BUTTON
© Johnmichael Simon
2016
.
