Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #227

A Man Signing the Alphabet
by Belinda Roddie

A man signing the alphabet was out
in the cold with a cellphone to his ear,
and though he did not speak, I heard a shout
erupt from inside the café. "I'm here!"
the hidden cried. "I'm really here! I can't
believe it!" And the coffee served was old,
and the cookies were baked and left at a slant,
and once bit, they were hot. A patch of mold -
or, rather, hair - grew from the signer's head,
and once he got to "Z," a small grin grew
into a smirk. "I wish that I was dead!"
screamed the hidden, and it was then I knew
that my society had turned to dust,
and sight and sound had both begun to rust.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Today's OneWord: Madman

Here we have the madman, standing at the podium. He screams threats and obscenities, and the meager audience cheers. They wear red hats and stamp their feet and gesture to the wind, taunting the spirits and daring them to change the course of time, to change the course of history, which never, ever ends. The madman is strutting. He's grinning at his prize. In perhaps a year, the world will change - the colors will all dim.
Read more

Today's OneWord: Statues

Why were the statues going white, and why was the rain cascading in sheets? I tried to find solace by the window, but the world outside had become nothing but glass. Blankets of water blurred the semblance of life that I stretched my mind to detect. Near me, my lover was asleep on the divan with wine pooling across her lap. Her curls lay in wet swaths around the warm nape of her neck. The statues would crumble in due time. The deluge was impending. We both would drown.
Read more

Today's OneWord: Conflict

I thought I had been properly trained for this. I thought that all the years I spent as a conflict mediator would pay off. I thought I had the experience and mental capacity to handle this particular quarrel. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. I knew I was wrong as soon as I entered the room. The people facing off: Two older women, both with very gray hair. Both short, frumpy, wearing pinks and purples. And they were wielding switchblades.
Read more