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The Hook

by Kerowyn Rose

a faceless window
looks out
at a slow rain.

the car runs like

what do dark

echoes of
footfalls perhaps,
or maybe dandelion

far from the running,
never buy a door.

the cold street
loves the girl.

the noisy corner grows
like a dead guy.

tiny skin bumps
raise with shivers.

ferments under


Posted on 12/21/2012
Copyright © 2022 Kerowyn Rose

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Charlie Morgan on 12/24/12 at 01:12 AM

...i got it. gal, this is taller than tall. what you do/did with memind. grins here.

Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 12/29/12 at 07:06 PM

I like this very much! You have created an urgency and simultaneity from something that seems desolate. It also has something of a "prophesy" tinge to it, yet it is quite alone, very alone in the world. Just excellent. Thank you.

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