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Duct
by Shirin Swift
In a few days, the banana peel on the steps blackens completely.
The sideways bottle has not moved. I feel sorry for the steps
that will never see rain, and receive a true cleansing.
In a few days it will be joined by two beer bottles.
A tangle of thorny nerves in my stomach.
Rat ghosts. What will they do to the rest of me,
if they continue to nibble at my innards this way?
Only I am armed in threadbare gusts and cannot remember.
Why I slide through the thirsty lanes.
06/24/2010 Posted on 06/24/2010
Copyright © 2025 Shirin Swift
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 06/24/10 at 01:21 PM You do a great job of displaying the world as you see it and not as others would have you see it. Nice job lady. |
| Posted by Tom Goss on 06/24/10 at 05:45 PM Delightful elucidation! |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 06/24/10 at 11:54 PM This is slinky and slightly ominous, furtive and sorrowful all at once...amazing job here, Shirin! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 04/25/11 at 04:06 PM I love how that first line sets the scene in the now, yet already seeing time's decaying process. My favorite use of word here is "sideways" with bottle. Those last two lines are so fragile. |
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