I have a few magazines to whom I’m considering submitting poems. Of coruse, that means dragging out all of the old poem files and reviewing what is there. This is a poem I wrote several years ago in the middle of a conflict with a friend. It’s not my best work, but some of the imagery is interesting. Comments welcome.
Polite Conversation
She said she was fine
her tone indicating otherwise
a gathering of flies picking
carefully through the conversation
Once, we shared our inner worlds
where closeted skeletons
greeted each other as friends.
We fought rabid-river rides
tumbling, turning in our make-shift raft
but always catching each other
before the current engulfed us.
She spoke now in staccato utterances
phrases chosen like steps
through piranha-infested water
