jump to navigation

A Poem About Soup Kitchens, Dragging Feet, Gassy Opacity, My Grandfather’s Carvings, and Defeat July 16, 2009

Posted by lisadalrymple in First Draft Poems.
Tags: , , , , , ,
trackback

I am defeat
feet shuffle
for soups
of pouf
and fog

Grandfather hold me in your knobby fingers
and carve the wooden clock from branch
time widdles
and evaporates
arms spasm forward
gears wrench
Defeat plagues the maker
The kitchen is closing

I am defeat
and I hunger for resign
for mist
for surrender

Comments»

No comments yet — be the first.