PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

As four engines burn from the sky,

A stream of Sighadied, another bout of social malady,

Clouds beautifully like a plume tail as if an aileron design.

As but to rocket them to the ground would be suicidal parody.

He sat on the fence the new neighbour around th corner,

A bright looking engineer, speaking of plugs, apps and hoehner.

We both saw the great plume as again many times afore it beautied sight.

Though too he knew part our tanks that cart that dose sadness in eyes.

In parallels the world i mentioned like the clang og metal dishes,

And the peace between said forage and charge.

He laughed realising the simply idiocy of my statement,

Put twenty bills in my hand and seemed to sow brief enlightenment.

He paid the toll, and a bridge was saved of if but his own, but large.

I went and grabbed a packet of non-filters from corner store,

And McDonalds for two juniors and an espresso in the helplesess wisdom implores.