Skin Parchment Poem by Sheena Blackhall
Skin Parchment
On the wishing tree
Hang lips, a moustache, three hearts
Twirling in the breeze
A cloud like a fat cigar goes puffing off
To nowhere
On a Yesterday’s girlfriend
Old Loves are tattooed like graffiti
Skin parchment memoirs
Peeling around the edges
Unwelcome as the afterwhiff
Of a fart.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
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5/8/2024 7:24:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
