PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

~ Yellow Doomsday Dresses ~

Crows don't rile the pigeons,
it's raptors who raise their ire
along rain-splattered avenues
littered with busted lives
hung-up on the poppy-dope
that has them wan and cornered.

Church bells don't rattle heathens  
where Jehovah Watchtowers fade on bus stop benches.
Yard-sale signs tacked to power poles point the way
to second-hand exercise machines and National Geographic
magazines. Wanda's corner is cold and sexless
now that the law has bumped her down to Tacoma.
We're both victims of yesterday's token sweep.

A folly of sirens suddenly strikes the emerald town
as concrete hips and steel bones
crack under blistered clouds. Blasted panes
shred pedestrians while those at home
vaporize behind irrelevant doors.

The nuclear twisters have missed

these yellow dresses, my gentle neighbors.
Let's put them on and muse among
the stubborn dandelions,
behold the common sparrows of the weed
as creatures marvelous and rare.

Yes, we're done for, folks.
It's our last chance to really laugh,
sing, and dance
in these yolk-yellow dresses,
as we suffer feathered downpours

of dead and dying birds.

D. B. Tompsett