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Gang Signs (a Poem About the Troubles of Love)

Israel is a writer, and she is studying for her Master's in English and Creative Writing.

Gang Signs

Disinfect the bed, love

take the base and throw it

over the stale concrete stairs

where I slipped and died.

It’s dead just as the

green weaver fell

from the bomb thunder.

Those black and green sheets

splattered in murder scene

were just cleaned in

washer and dryer.

Eight-inch heels

by the bedside

we exhausted till

sleep became insipid.

Night became ritual

reviving the next day.

I looked out to the gang house

-enclosed in forever arms.

We pointed to faraway

scenes of finality

and if another homicide

its another homicide.

End the air-conditioned room

of so much fire

so the rain and thugs can continue

in their lives without considering

the covenant of you and me.


Give me your thoughts!

I appreciate all thoughts on how I can improve or what I can do to fix the poetry. I am experimenting with rhythm this month, so I am trying to see how I can develop it.

© 2020 Sarah Litchney

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