Plaid Poetry Thursday #4

Firstly, sorry I missed Tuesday this week. It was my grandma's birthday, who passed away quite a few years ago. My grandpa likes to take my mom, aunt, and me out to dinner on April 27th in her memory. I figured I'd just skip it this week since it's not like Tuesdays are a big deal anyway.


So... I didn't write anything new for my indie study this week... Well, that's a lie. I wrote a piece, but didn't work much on it and we ended up working with the video class on our short films today instead of looking at pieces... I guess I can post what I started working on and I'll show you some progress once it gets edited a bit. Mmkay.

(This, like basically everything else I write, is still untitled)

An old man leans back in his chair,
Eyes half-shut, mouth half-open.
“I’ve been carting around a guy from Nigeria all week.”
He has bright, white hair and thick, square glasses
That hang from his neck on a string.
“Have you ever seen a bull fight?”
The old man’s shirt pocket sags under the weight
Of his rusty old pocket protector.
“You know, there’s a kidnapper in the area.”
His hand sits idly on the table,
But his knees are always shaking.
“Please, call me Roaring K Slider Boom. Or Jack.”


The deep wrinkles around his pale blue eyes curve up,
And he grins.
The first time I saw her, I said, “Wow, man. Wow.”

So yeah, that's all I have for you. Woooo.

♥