Poem #17 of 30

I’m trying shorter poems after reading the VQR’s Instapoetry series.  It’s an interesting challenge.  Anyway, read and (hopefully) enjoy.  –d

HOW TOMORROW MIGHT LOOK

Imagine we are at war.
Imagine our lunch splattering against the cacophony;
tomatoes turned sauce and stain.

Imagine the floors now shanks of wood
we chance for retreat.  Imagine our lips
baring teeth, white flags misunderstood.

Imagine the linens, what remains
of them, now unsterile gauze.  Imagine
this bed: the DMZ.

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2 thoughts on “Poem #17 of 30

  1. You have some excellent imagery here. I don’t like the first word, though: the imagining all seems to depend on the first statement, so I think the first statement must be different. Perhaps deleting the first word, or making a dependent clause by substituting “if”; just thinking on screen. I like what you’ve done, especially the end where the bed becomes the DMZ. Splendid.

    Like

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