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


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 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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