Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Kristen de Kline - #38: Roses 2

it isn't all it's cracked up to be
     on the outside
American Gothic neighbours from the rear unit
drip in acrylic
steal your roses
chase you with pitchforks
crush crimsony petals
beneath Puritan heels
another bloody stone in your shoe
thorn in your side 

they promised 
sun shining rain falling
foreign port twin bed with a stranger
no warm arms all around you
man with a lazy eye
he speaks not a sentence to you 
share lines over 50s formica: grey, flecked 
when he thinks you're not looking 
he shaves off more for himself
lazy eye man doesn't like the way you toss your hair laugh 
     flirt with the bar-man
throws a half glass of Oyster Bay in your face
calls you a skanky whore 
Sav Blanc tear drops 
     run, rock'n'roll 
decimate your mascara
raccoon eyes 

it should have ended there
'he used to send me roses, I wish he would again ...'
the poet says he'd be standing patiently in the rain
holding the roses 
but things bottles moods
thrash around
someone tosses a Bitburger bottle at a lounge room window
glass shatters in triangular splinters
like toffee in a movie set

you tell me that roses grow inside 
morning comes around goes around
you take the dust of a long, sleepless night
light a thin green candle light another cigarette
learn to forget let me sleep all night
tarnish the golden rule


  1. Such a good poem, Kristen. Things do thrash around :)

  2. waouh! as we say in French: ça balance! (in the sense of dumping on each other, or you could also translate by it's getting very rocky in this poem!) to make it short: Thanks, I love this tone!

  3. Thanks Rob and Béatrice - appreciate the comments. I'll try and maintain the thrashing and the tone!!!


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