Metaphors and similes
I drag a metaphor
too far into the dirt
to pick up sticks and worms
around the little trees
little trees
homes for singing bees like
sailors on a sea
oh god another
simile that brings her to her knees
like whispers in the eaves
the trees they freeze—
again.
A rut of stinking mud
a crash
another thud
the tug of stone and blood
springs round behind the
thing
a thing that quite resembles a
summer war-machine
wedding ring
travesty of a short-lived fling
as it changes into yet another
boat to bring to shore.
It’s a million miles away
of course
I could eat a horse
as it launches into the sky
like a butterfly
carried against the clouds.
Oh wow.
I think I’ve really done
it kicked the can
could make a man
turn from his ways
beg him to change
and yet the writing sits
tall
small
and on the wall.
A literary lesson never kept.
