How to Write a Poem in the Absence of Inspiration

Picturesque and lethal as an oil baron's
Trophy wife, the prairie's blanketed
With snow. That's really all I have to
Say, a joke, a catchy metaphor, an
Indication that I have encountered
Several trophy wives. Their smiles
Somehow smug and sad, they're
Proud of how they've set themselves,
But not enchanted with their lovers,
Older men who don't come home,
And insecure. They can't be sure
These guys who've cast off high school
Sweethearts won't, at some point,
Turn on them. And then, well,
With their settlements, it's not as if
They'll be back eating ramen in a
Studio. They'll get a house in
Some nice suburb, and they'll get
The maintenance which lets them
Lounge beneath the sun, already
Drunk by ten o'clock, their hungry
Eyes upon the buttocks of the
Boys who clean their pools.
Though sunken-eyed and slightly
Flabby, they'll stay lethal,
Picturesque, and I'm still staring
At the prairie, out of things to say.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 86 times
Written on 2015-01-06 at 00:41

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