sunday night
sunday night
is a pair of pants
suddenly too snug,
a doctor’s waiting room
pale sequel,
artificial flavour
rye too watered
to open the hatch
in my chest,
kiss that doesn’t
follow through
sunday night
is a set-up,
a school-zone
a balk,
a bruise,
a bloom of mould
a lie,
claiming to be part
of the weekend
(this is a draft of a poem i'm working on for the next issue of a paw in my face, a wpg zine. The theme of this issue is hate, counterpoint to the love issue launched last fall. any wpg poets interested in taking part, check out their facebook group for more info.)
5 comments:
great opening line. love the third stanza, particularly the hatch in my chest!!!
Very dark, K. AND very tight.
(One tiny quibble: the fifth stanza, though beautiful, seems out of place.)
the doctor's waiting room threw me off for a second, I'm not sure it fits.
I too like the hatch in my chest and the school-zone. not sure it is a bruise, but maybe that's personal.
great final stanza, yes, a lie claiming to be part/of the weekend
thanks kerry
oh and Kerry, I just reread your intro and you said you're going for 31... I think you're going to make it... well done!
I really enjoy and can (sadly) too easily relate to the first lines, sunday night/is a pair of pants/suddenly too snug. We must both live by the same 'food rules'!
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