After:
______________
Jane’s Dream
A woman is trying to get me off her lawn. Her black beehive wig towers over me, a hostile ice cream cone. She tried shutting the gate, but I am already on the inside. We don’t want your kind here, she hisses. I have a message for your daughter, I say, warding off the blows of her pocketbook, my hands bloody. In the top story window, a hairless girl watches me. She chews slowly on the lace curtain. I don’t have a daughter, the woman shouts again. I know the girl is watching me, waiting to see what I’ll do next.
2 comments:
Gretel, now being part bird, ate all the bread crumbs Hansel dropped to mark the way out of the forest....
Terry,
You are a poet! I'll do the pictures, you do the words.
Post a Comment