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

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© Johnmichael Simon

2016

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