Thursday, April 6, 2017

Scratches #93 Claine Keily

It was now the end
of the first week
and still the mantel
had not been dusted
so she wrote her name
in the dirt
and poured herself a glass of wine

"Throw it away,"
he yelped
pointing at her glass
"or throw it in the stew."

The room was lined 
with packing boxes
and the effigy of Christ
had only just been pinned up
on the wall

Later when they moved 
the dining table
she let her end lag on purpose 
so as it scratched the floor


  1. Oh I am in love. This simmering fury. Gorgeous.

  2. I'm in love too - with the pain and the fury and the undusted mantel piece, the glasses of wine (one needs!), the telling packing boxes - but just love the deliberate scratching of the floor - go girl!

  3. Thanks Kristen and Kerri. I am wondering about the direction my poems are taking at the moment and am a bit torn about whether to keep going in the same manner but push things further or to take off on another path? What do you both think?


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