Tuesday, May 01, 2012

The White Glove

Watch out!
She'll pry and pry
as a way to get you to
cry, try, by and by.

The years will desecrate you.

Metal over porcelain
fears of scraping
gaping and stabbing
She has the need to clean plate.

Pinball knocks the side bumper
and wheels to my toes
Gutter ball, side rails,
snails and trails of beaten
fluid.
I wish to burn, bruise, ignite.

So give me something bitter
my sweet
to cure me of this ill
The clock ticks in my belly
of mother-in-law glue.

© 19-Jan-2010 Sonja J. Johnston

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