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
