Saturday, April 11, 2015

Poem #2

Day 2: Write a secret poem [This poem was also a result of an in-class exercise in which we had to incorporate someone else's secret and their 5 favorite words. So yeah. This it not my typical language.]


"My Father, the ex-Neo-Nazi Leader"

He thrives in his milky skin
smooth, unblemished
even with age

His eye catches the slightest flash of brown
in a crowd-- tonight, it's a chaka:
that gangster from the East side
talking cute with me, all zoomed
in vodka and weed, gold chains
up against me, rough and cold

He strides over, shadow casting gloomy doom
and says, Can I help you, son?

I hold my breath and wait--
will they explode?

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