Red/Green Colorblind MadnessJennifer L. Knox
Whoa there, Stretch. Hands off—the madness stays right where I left it, Pokey warned, holding a purple gun on me. See it’s a philosophy, really— a conscious choice to be this way— though it’s costed me dearly… It’s rabies, you dolt—you’re drooling all over the place, I said, feeling the spider’s egg buried in the hump on my head jump. Soon it would hatch and its scorching righteousness would pour forth like lava.
Jennifer L. Knox Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2021, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|