RHYME Poem: The Last Days of L.A., by Noah Dunn

I wrote myself a poem today —
much to my disgust — in hopes
to offer something else than shape or meaning,
like, perhaps, a word
with weight and sizzle-crack:
a bridge of lightning bright enough for aping
those between those motes of light
that I have always found to look like you.

Like you: all sprawled beneath the vine-hung sky
in Grand Hope Park. Like you: with runny
nose and bloody knee,
the t-rex on your t-shirt announcing
how you thought about extinction
as you fell toward the dirt
in geologic time,
or you:

with clever, busy hands
encircling dandelion hair
into a sheaf
like the treasures off the threshing-floor
to better press your cheek
against the snot.

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film. View all posts by poetryfest