Mixed Breed

by Philip F De Pinto

a militant dove. grovels sick. of saying please. love.
banished horrifically from his species. as were a pair of white shirts.
join the flurry of snow. stalking collars. and sidewalks in packs.
there in mixed company the dove will learn.
to grow pacific. if not blend. in perfectly with the others.
to make a terrific snowball. and starch.

innocent creature. nothing. nothing is likely to win. back
your specific features. when one or the other mimicked. like a twin.
your spitting image. recollect a fling? like a snowball. flung up a stair.
led nowhere but. through the minds entrails. there lie. to melt and blend.
with thoughts. Siamese tanked on gin. were at ease. driven by twin engines.s.


Posted on 02/06/2015
Copyright © 2023 Philip F De Pinto

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/09/15 at 04:06 PM

Pretty fun construction here, Philip. Terrific poetics. Quick, a little breathless here and there, blending but not. I love the pair of white shirts with stalking collars, the packs of sidewalks (and I usually looking only for cracks!). The snowball .....

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