USA

manukahas@yahoo.com

SONNET X

She calls everyone ‘honey’ in a place
Where dreams are pickled so they can persist;
There are rumors of beauty in her face,
Disclosing days that were better than this.
As she tosses down her shots with a sniff,
her smile becomes noticeably swollen;
And she winks at me pretending as if
I could give back the years that were stolen.
And I thought of taking her out of here
As the drinks briefly robbed me of reason;
But her words are sandpaper in my ear,
Her pleated smile is an act of treason.
She looks like a couplet straining to rhyme . . .
But she must have been something in her prime.

the poet’s prayer

god
kill me before i vomit halmark cards

© All Copyright, Joseph Crow Riley.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.