The place for writers: Upload your writing in minutes, receive peer feedback from other writers, poets, authors, then get your work published out there in the real world. Learn how other writers are doing it.
Blithe lies
A politician's stock in trade
Lithe softshoe sidestep the issues
Writhe and slide
Through a greasy net
Of non-committal nothingness
Time's scythe
Shall reap the rotting harvest
Centuries of deceit
Small minds dream of power
Scream for control
Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
Ok. I haven't a clue where my mind was when I read this last week. I wondered why Blythe lied to the policeman, but also knew I was reading it wrong, so I decided to come back later. I guess Blythe was a politician (or at least one's wife). I wonder what crime she (or her husband) had committed? Anyway, now that I've re-tightened the loose screw in my head--it was a very good read.
