Question In Style

This wet whistle,

This longing,

This hope I’ve been breeding
On park benches
And porch steps
 
Will keep me from
Violence.

Flat
Like boiled blood,
Feeding off silence,

Subsidence,
Compliance.

Too soon
Is the long gone,
Cracked pavements
And bruised feet,

The sandwich
At midnight
And whispers
Unique.

It’s 1970
On the stereo,

Defeat
Is a blessing,

A salad-less dressing,

Disguised
With a question

In style.

3 Responses to “Question In Style”

  1. Very clever and strong lines. It’s interesting to me that you addressed “hope” as a means of keeping you from violence. I found that relatable. It reminded me of the feeling one would get when mixing numbed nirvana alongside impatient insanity.

  2. You’re spot on, Alicia. Lots of confusion too.

  3. “This hope I’ve been breeding
    On park benches…”

    I like the use of ‘breeding’ in relationship to hope. It gives a sense of urgency to the poem; whether internal or communal, the breeding implies careful- if not urgent- planning and with a very strong sense of purpose.
    Nice one.

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