tonight the old couch with new cushions
holds red feathers between its seams
seems like it could fly
or stretch talons into black stilettos
of matching leather
thrown out of the bedroom
the boa was discarded before the chain
on the front door was secured
the couch has seen somebody murdered
its arms have held someone who survived
and supported half a dozen sex lives
as it listens to its mistress gasp & cry
an unfamiliar name
the couch thanks god
for charity shops & curbside scavengers
the couch says
Written in response to the fifth of Big Tent Poetry’s prompts for the first week of National Poetry Month.
Incidentally, I never do spell “stiletto” in the dictionary-standard way on the first try.
Related articles
- “National Poetry Month.ca Has Begun” and related posts (dbqp.blogspot.com)
- Happy National Poetry Month 2011! (bigwindow.wordpress.com)
- National Poetry Month – Sandra Kolankiewicz (emergingwriters.typepad.com)
- Celebrating National Poetry Month on Tor.com (tor.com)
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