Born with two brown thumbs
I water. Don't water. Shade. Don't shade. Rinse and Repeat.
Leaves crumple with an audible scream. Wither and Die.
Abandoned on the window ledge
This indelible reminder
that i can't make them grow
So,
instead,
I bury them in the backyard.
Born with two left feet
I flirt. Halt. Ignore. Seduce. Rinse and Repeat.
Men crumple with an inaudible scream. Wither and Die.
Abandoned in a dinner booth
This indelible reminder
that i can't make them grow
So,
instead,
I bury them in the backyard.
13 comments:
Beautiful poem using conflation. A very nice poem.
I like the two stories.. though distinct, you weaved them together...burying them in the backyard.
Nice (creepy) one ~
haha...you bury them in the backyard...ok, you are scaring me now...smiles...nice...love the mimicry in the two stanzas...
oh goodnes..rinse and repeat i'd say...haha
Excellent clever write - burying them in the back yard is the right thing to do!
Anna :o]
Perhaps if you bury the men in the backyard first and plant the flowers on top you'd have better luck. Nice poem, but a little scary.
Cool...that's where I bury them too! Nicely done.
My, oh my! You murdered this. Well done.
Cheers!
Very funny! I live in the City most of the time, in an apartment. Too bad! K.
this is brilliant.
wow.
this is brilliant.
wow.
Happy Halloween,
Thanks for the support to Jingle Poetry Community,
loved your talent and presence.
welcome in any time, we are open until Thursday.
:)
come sharing with us today.
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