melissaahowells
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if I
were to fall into the sea they wouldn't wring a drop from me... no salt no sadness no tears not even find a broken wing or bone nothing from this ole crone larger women get no service round here no keening when the living is over into the ground you go down and into the clover or into the kettle you go to be rendered like soap or soup a bubble and a brew without a hitch that is where the baddies go boiled down like this feisty witch that was you good riddance whether you were whittled down by the word or watered down by the world in the end they'll get you girl watch out for those wielding buckets, shovels and seashore pails and those past Lotharios made from failed potions of snipsy snails and puddle dog tails there is no way out of being cornered now the villagers have gathered with their rakes and their hoes and their shouts and their gaggling goo-googling grins you are at the ocean edge, the cliffs you shouldn't have parted from the Midwest they're closing in now here is the end where you'll stand your last look below and plunge into the sea they already have the cauldron water boiling to simmer down what will remain left of thee some witches are idiots never knowing how things were truly great oh hell now its much too late I'll be witch boil on some red neck's dinner plate. Take this literally or not? COPYRIGHT AUGUST 30 2014 ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED BY THIS AUTHOR ALL IDEAS/RANTS/POETRY/PROSE ARE THE LEGAL PROPERTY OF THIS WRITER MELOO MELISSA A HOWELLS COPYRIGHT SITE: TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem |
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