Black Shuffling Cars Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

Black Shuffling Cars

Rating: 3.9


A crossing wind
flutters over the lawn.
A black car shuffles down
the street as
I ease my bike into the traffic.
Only hope is for sale.
It sits like a dusty jar
.................. left stagnant
.........................in the basement.
I listen to the sound of the swamp
.................. that flocks like mosquitoes
............................ in and out of me.
Joined on the road by
...............other black shuffling cars,
I tense my buttocks in
........... preparation for
..........the ass fucking
................. I'll receive
for daring to think my own mind.
Leave a tiny spark of departing fashion
........... as you drain me of my will to create.
I'll drop an arm across the table
...............so you can bleed me.
A crossing wind
flutters over the lawn.

Monday, January 31, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: reality
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Georgios Venetopoulos 18 February 2014

Good morning sir! I am impressed (for one more time) by the inventiveness of your mind. Your verse is bold and model. I am looking forward to read more from you.

1 0 Reply
Pranab K Chakraborty 04 February 2011

ONLY HOPE IS FOR SALE..... Fantastic chasing with the wind. Metaphors and imagery are so brilliant, intelligence and emotion knitted by such a skilled word-artist....I put my choice high here (if machine carries my vote) . About the quoted line: Thank you poet for representing our existence during this time so accurately by such submissive and artistic way...simply matchless. Regards, pranab 10++++

0 0 Reply
Kesav Easwaran 03 February 2011

strong...beautiful...picturesque

0 0 Reply
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