Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Two Poems by Diane Webster

Boy Hunts

Teenage boy's hands shoved into pockets
while two girls cling to each arm like handcuffs;
like police jerking prisoner to squad car;
like two girls fighting over a cloth doll
ripping arms and legs, head and stuffing
flying in wind in dandelion-fluff fury
so if one can't possess it, neither can the other.
The boy's baseball cap lies on the sidewalk
awaiting next crowned prince of the moment
as girls flounce like trolling fish bait
in the neighborhood where boys never suspect
piranhas sniff for fresh blood.

Does He Desire

Of course his red hair catches
one's attention like he wants
but what if I stop and snatch
him upside down and drag
his head along the sidewalk
like striking a match to watch
the flame flare in phosphorus
wonder?  Does he desire
afterglow before my eyes
like memory of him
strutting beside this road?

Diane Webster's goal is to remain open to poetry ideas in everyday life or nature or an overhead phrase and to write from her perspective at the moment.  Many nights she falls asleep juggling images to fit into a poem.  Her work has appeared in "Philadelphia Poets," "Illya's Honey," "The Hurricane Review" and other literary magazines.

No comments:

Post a Comment