serendipity folds towels

serendipity folds towels
by the empty pool
a drag is a joint creaking
to the sound of a belting
somewhere in dark heartland
where women are possessed
by unkind spirits and yield
to the shadows of repetition
where all flies are human
bombs are unreal even in death

I pity the second man
doubting severity to be a foe
I pity he who counts his victories
the importance of running
with cruelty and hate
to the sound of psychotic prayers
of any mindless religion
I pity any man afraid of dying
feeding his furnace with coins
and hollow lacerations




Poetry by Bob
Read 757 times
Written on 2016-08-22 at 18:08

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Kathy Lockhart
Images. Emotions. Violence. Chaos. I'm left folding towels pondering...

I look for you and if I find you, then I am content to explore the gift.
2016-08-26


Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
You are the master!
2016-08-26


Phyllis J. Rhodes
This spins around in my head as I connect each word and line. Where is it going I think at the beginning. By the end I am in so deep I need to take a deep breath and check my beliefs. Quite moving.
2016-08-23