for the one whose final words left litter in my veins

i take the Midwest   its storms upstaging every corner of the sky
too involved with open roads    lazy lands i touch
with just a whisper   and you’re there     my undoing
practically grinning at the locusts     not a single crop

it seems a worm has worked its way into love again
consuming every sweet intention      i make Iowa  by half a day
sooner than i expected     what lives there i don’t know
i ease through dead crowds of corn     one wheel is faint

the other three still screech your name    so loud it leaves a mark
and i am stranded  with green stop signs in my eyes    hair yelling
at the wind    what a wink couldn’t fix     how gone i feel
from your flattery      how flat i am  when you don’t pursue

Help Spread The Word

banjolyn

i will die a metaphor.

11 Responses

  1. Alfred Booth says:

    Your exquisite title pulled me here. A lot of interesting things going on in this poem.

  2. Dave Kavanagh says:

    This new style suits you, Mandee. I enjoyed this trip my friend.

  3. Dave Kavanagh says:

    I would really like you to submit this, along with any other work you think suitable for the magazine which launches on the 12th of June. The submission form is here http://magazine.thebluenib.com/submission-form/ I am sure our editor will simply love this, I know I do 🙂

  4. selfrisinmojo says:

    Excellent work my friend

  5. Naomi says:

    Your Banjoesque title drew me straight in without seeing that this was you – should have known! Love this write, a little more rooted with detailed descriptions, equally creative and compelling

  6. Sofia Kioroglou says:

    Nicely written poem! Thank you for sharing!

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