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Without Itch Sufficient
by Philip F De Pinto
Of the mill
We had the run
Spun our cotton
Candy time was up
And it was fall after all
When Autumn chimes in
Her crystal mercenary
There would be no refrain of pleasant teas
During such windfall time
As we had a plethora of necks
And rhyming triplets
To go around sticking out
Clearly unseen and yet on cue
Down swooped the guillotine
Abruptly ceased our summersault
Love aptly called or misnomered
Some have said
We lose our dread
With the forfeiture of our head
Then the blade returns to the sky
Point made and taken
A bloody sunrise
Reddening the Everglades
Of beds unmade
Such as cannot clot
Cauterize what is oozing away
From us at speeds light cannot approximate
Our former selves
Without sufficient itch
To pick at what would never
Amount to scab
09/13/2013 Posted on 09/13/2013
Copyright © 2024 Philip F De Pinto
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/13/13 at 06:36 PM Love the poetics, drama and detail here. Gory, in that second part, but so well written. The end of a relationship has never been better described IMHO. |
| Posted by Linda Fuller on 09/14/13 at 05:03 PM Nothing run-of-the-mill about your poetry, Philip, that's for sure. This, as many of your poems do, tickles my brain, but not to the point of itching. |
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