Need a better title


The Boogieman

it's a shame
the clock never ever
runs the other way

no matter how hard
we push on it,
leaning on the minute hand
like teenagers
on a closed door
in a slasher flick,
panting,
and yelling,
and crying out,
trying in vain
to hold back the terror
that is on the other side


he always gets through,
the ax,
the machete,
the hammer,
the hand,

time

you cant escape,
he always finds you,
so run up the stairs,
instead of out the front door,
hide in that closet,
under the sink,
the bed,
creep out when
you think he's gone,
it doesn't matter

he's always
right behind you,
that cold pale hand
across your mouth,
stifling your teenage-lover scream





Poetry by Rapscallion
Read 513 times
Written on 2009-03-04 at 04:49

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Blue River
Very nice beginning to this poem, catchy and something we have all thought I'm sure.

The extended metaphor of the teenage horror movie is cool, and it works well. The very last line brings it all together nicely but it feels ungrammatical somehow. Maybe 'teenage-lover scream'??

I enojoyed this one, good stuff.
2009-03-04