Gutter Trash 2 Poem by JOE POEWHIT
Gutter Trash 2
Acid-rain sings the blues.
Shine left my shoes.
Church bells in a flutter.
People behind closed shutters.
Rich limo with a flat.
Many lie, eating crackerjacks.
Poor people in food lines.
Gold wristwatch, with a chime.
Panic hearts look around.
TV. clown making more sounds.
God idol images, looking down.
Dead body, GUTTER TRASH, with a frown.
9/23/2009 POEWHIT
JESUS SAVES
Nicely contrasts are juxtaposed in a little piece very well and with punch!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 6:43:05 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I can see why you have called this Gutter Trash. Well gutted!