Contributor Series 6: A Currency of Words, Poison Pen

Contributor Series 6: A Currency of Words
Poison Pen
By Jean McLeod

Words lie on my paper
like dead fish:
blackened bones
meaningless motes.
Smelling of iodine
and rot,
they straggle, strive
ring with slander
slither
through my fingers
onto a sullied page
roiling like
seas before a slattern
storm.

Unruly heathens,
they slash
and leave me bleeding.

Women cover their ears,
press tight 
against buildings.

Men shutter
their eyes,
cover their genitals,
cross the street
so my words
will not splash
them.


Jean McLeod's most recent poem to appear at vox poetica was Ode to Spring Sestina (May 2010).

Posted by Annmarie at 9/15/2010 12:02 AM
Categories: Contributor Series 6, today's words
Tags: slander Jean McLeod words hurt storm
 

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