When the rain comes
pouring, pounding into
the mud, flowing through gutters
as cars on highways racing
to work. We can only
guess its schedule --
how long it will stay, or
how heavy or light the water will
be, or how much good it will do.
Candy Sweet Veins
Stars and polka dots become weapons of choice
with flailing arms and legs, next stop motor control.
But it doesn't stop -- more power to the legs. And
we can beam information across a room but we can't
cure anything bad, real bad, very good. The little white
sticks taste like candy. Puts all kinds of ideas in
the mind. We puff on them like cigarettes. Everyone
tries them sooner or later. We are slaves to the alarm
clocks spread throughout the house going off every
six hours. This kind of work begs for something
stronger. A lack of sleep may produce a drug
induced state, kind of like being drunk. Maximum
interruption in a 10 lb. frame.
LB Sedlacek's poetry has been published in a variety of publications such as Big Pulp, Mastodon Dentist, Fickle Muses, Apparent Magnitude, Sea Stories, Ginosko, Connotations Press, Tertulia Magazine, The Broad River Review, The Hurricane Review, and others. LB's latest chapbook is District of Confusion (the Washington, DC poems).
Post a Comment