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.
- “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)