rdking.net

• [ home ]
• [ poetry ]
• [ digital collage ]
• [ digital blending ]
• [ 3 chairs ]
• [ DOS art ]
• [ bio ]

  Cloud Litter

Her cheek still shining from spittle and booze,
she could not agree what it was. The wind spun,

flapped, or jerked—that slow howl—precursor to
this immensity always standing before her; she lives;
      she bears
that which abducts her attention, reaching abruptly
for her sex, money, or her cigarettes. And just after,

her own thoughts are quietly tempered, lessened, like
a sky crowded with clouds above an oddly-altered landscape

with warehouses, loading docks and fences, abandoned
cars.  She leaves them alone with their feckless details.

Instead she dares not to scratch the itch, choosing
to piss in the low weeds along the littered roadside.

    back | ToC | next