June 2022
John Dorroh
travelerjd59@gmail.com
travelerjd59@gmail.com
Bio Note: It seems I have a disease called IO, Idea Overload. I have so many things to write about, projects of all kinds, that often I find it difficult to get started on any of them. When that happens, I take a poetry book from my shelves (probably 300+) and read aloud what the poet is offering to me at that moment. It almost always works, acting as a jumpstart for the day's work.
Snake Dance
I sleep with tornadoes, their slender tails wound around my ankles like Velcro. They tug on my legs, pull me out of bed, tell me that the basement is a joke, useless like empty coffins. Always wear your shoes to bed when the weather person stays up late, hugging the podium like a preacher. The colors on the TV look like Christmas, or spilled blood in the forest. The basement is cold like a morgue. I need a light jacket to keep my soul close to my body when the roof pops off.
©2022 John Dorroh
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL