Not Even A Last Cigarette Poem by Laurence Overmire
Not Even A Last Cigarette
The poets were lined up against the
Classroom wall
Shot through with trees and flowers and
Magpies in spring.
The poor students
Skulls pounding with the noise of the
Outside world
Did their duty with dispatch
Though bloody fingers
Could barely pull the trigger.
(Previously published in The Hold, May 2003)
great stuff, I'm picturing a mixture of a poetry writing and a firing squad haha
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/26/2024 7:18:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
deep meaning - poetry squeezes out the blood of the spirit