Formerly Badass Horrible Poetry

This isn't just a poetry blog. Let's be honest, a lot of what I post is poetry but there are more often than not also postings about short stories. I do try to keep this blog separate from my others and post strictly creative work here. Some of it will be better than others, and much of it is in first or second draft stage when posted. These are raw works, and there will be spelling and grammar troubles at times because I use this blog to gauge what works and what doesn't. I use it as a place to get feedback. That's the reason it is "horrible". Because it's not finished-- And why should it be? We all want feedback but most of us are too afraid to put ourselves out there.

Welcome to my word.

Friday, November 28, 2014

what the rope on that tree saw

what the rope on that tree saw

gravity lulled the swing back
the swing of greying board
the fraying rope on the
right, discolored and cold

was no twin to the twine
of the left
hand side
she dangled
limp and gaunt
left to haunt the hanging tree

the day the broker moved
into the tree’s backyard
he laced his hands
in burlap and
tossed a line into deep fog

in surprise the line grew
taught and the rope
wound like witches fingers smelling
of ivy and gingersnaps
she beckoned and her wolfhound sang

so he took the line
and he took the swing
and snipped the seat
in the wind the rope’s hair
unfurled and when broker’s happy feet
blended over each
other he tripped up vertical

his toes dangling and
the careless twine
cleaved against her weight
to hold another lover
aloft with molted wings

when it was done
and another broker
moved into the backyard
the splayed fingers of rope
were forced to prayer
and she bore another child. 

©2014 Lex Vex

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