June 2017
Here is my submission for June. I have nothing to say about this poem. ;)
Writer’s Block
The golden dog
dance-prancing
in the yard next door
is not yours
you are drifting out of love
you are not even the forlorn
promise of a paper town
you are more like a shopping mall
with bankrupt stores
grass in the parking lot
although you secretly cheer
for the grass
everyone around you
seems to stare
into their phone hand
phones were once
for speaking
and listening
tethered to a wall
you could lean against
or in a glass booth
where you were one
of the fleeting
kaleidoscope colors
in the shuffle and hustle
of Main Street
a man on the radio
says the color of entropy
is fuchsia
all untended garden phlox
drift that way, eventually
I wonder, then
if entropy is fuchsia
then maybe this paper
is a vacuum
© 2017 Sylvia Cavanaugh
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