Our Trash Ontologies
A poem for America
Shit in a toilet in the woods
Use an eye cream to mitigate sales
Gild a hair salon on promising fades
Wig the pleasantries of ignoring waiters
Promise class for an air-crypto stretch
Trench roses to neighbor in a combat zone
Paint the faces of corpses to bargain
Graze sizable salads with smaller forks
Sprinkle potpourri on a gun’s quiet vet
Put in mouth another poem of the moon
Collect poker chips in glasses to clean
Enter dogs in competitions hide and seek
Take to drycleaners an Easter hat unworn
Give dimes to our children’s rib cages
Brawl over balls to e-sign identity docs
Watch bearded men pray a boy dancing
Take to prom under your chafed shoe
Drink sermons to scapegoat a cross
.
And after all the pesticides have endured
Take plastic cactuses and decorate your soul
About the Creator
Paul Aaron Domenick
“I am mine. Before I am ever anyone else’s.” --Nayyirah Waheed
“Publication is the auction of the mind of man.” --Emily Dickinson
“Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.” --Franz Kafka
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More stories from Paul Aaron Domenick and writers in Poets and other communities.
Elderly Woman Behind the Table in a Large Town
The glass of Absinthe sat before me. It’s quite amazing how despite such terror rendered upon their stones in the preceding decades, these streets still held the beauty I first read about as a girl. I never dreamed I’d set foot on these cobbles, at least not safely.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 days ago in Art
Comments (1)
Damn! If I ever need to eviscerate someone and lack the words, I’m calling you.💖