Pets I Have Killed
The first, a fish for the four-year-old. The most vibrant word, Marker, chosen to fit its hue. Food. There can be too much of a good thing.
Rabbits, on a baptismal day. Put away in a room of their own.
Care. Out of sight is out of mind.
Birds, during the body change. Their warbling meant to ease sleep.
Clean. Cleanliness is next to Godliness.
The last, a dog for the “grown-up”. Walked every day, but once without a leash.
Haste. Be careful before every step.
Dang it. The format's all messed up, but oh well.
Oh, and that line wasn't part of the poem, in case you couldn't tell. This one wasn't either.
"Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self." -Cyril Connolly
5 comments:
hahahahaha kim that is awesome. between you and kylie i feel like i ought to write my next post in prose...
Kim I like the poetics of your whole blog. Not just your posts. :)
Thanks Katie and Josh!
What do you mean by the poetics of the whole blog though?
Oops. Didn't check back. I mean that your whole blog carries with it a quality of prose and beauty. Some blogs are just hodgepodges (SP?)of daily events. Like journal entries. Yours is something more. Yours has depth. Has class. Has... well, poetics. I don't really know how else to say it. :)
Thanks, Josh! That's super sweet of you to say.
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