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HARD LIFE
They opted for the lemonade.
Zed chose suicide.
While they sipped out in the shade
Zed went upstairs and died.
When Alicia removed her blouse
her friends cheered loud for more.
Meanwhile upstairs in the house
Zed drained upon the floor.
Skip flipped off his skateboard
and fractured his left hip.
Nick rushed him to the clinic.
Zed could only drip.
Alfredo got a job at Jack’s.
Leonard sailed to France.
Sandy swilled hard lemonade
and finally wet her pants.
Manuel robbed a Mayan tomb
and shared everything he got.
Jane robbed 1st national
and never did get caught.
I saw Ernest up on Everest,
his hair as wild as wind.
Nancy gave birth to two.
Jane robbed the bank again.
Derek wrote bad poetry
about the sorrow of his lot.
Flower went back to the land.
Zed began to rot.
Juan disappear in Guatemala.
Henry had a heart attack,
and all they found of Francis
were slippers by the track.
Everyone in the family—
Clairese, Carl and Pat and John—
set fire to their savings
and laughed when it was gone.
Huxley walked beside the river;
he did that every day.
We’ll never know what he saw
because he did not say.
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| A very powerful, well written poem. I can see the lives of young people and the paths they have chosen. Art imitates life. |
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wow, that is one powerful poem: i have no suggestions. i am floored. the rhyming is so natural, it really flows, and the words so meticulously compliment each other.
(i never knew that about chumming......sounds rather poetic, actually) :-) |
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Comment by: mafsa - 2007-10-08 05:19
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>I'm going to [transfer] into a catfish to get some corn kernels
i meant transform, oops! ;) |
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Comment by: mafsa - 2007-10-08 05:17
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i like the pacing and the sequencing in the poem. as for the content, it well tackled the 'hard lives' of the characters mentioned.
>When Alicia removed her blouse her friends cheered loud for more.
>Nancy gave birth to two.
these two are what hit me hard, mainly because i'm a girl who witnesses other girls becoming impure, to be polite. and i'm proud to say that i can still hold my head high, heh heh.
about the chumming thing, i'm going to transfer into a catfish to get some corn kernels. lol... seriously, thank you for that thought.
a very strong poem, thanks for the words of wisdom you've brought here. thumbs up!
Mary:p |
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Good grief, sounds like a bunch o' people I've known! Seriously, I think this is a great write, a great read, about how hard life can be, for each 'n' ev'ry one o' the bunch!
As for chummin' with corn - years 'n' years ago, while livin' homeless under a bridge, a homeless man taught me how to survive there on the river. His method of catchin' rainbow trout, out o' season & in a state park to boot, was to chum the water's edge with a can o' stolen corn, then thread a sewin' needle with corn. The fish would bite instantly when we tossed it in & they'd follow it to the river's edge, at which time we'd reach down & catch 'em with our hand! Then they'd be cooked over an open fire & we'd sleep a night without a hungry belly. To this day, I love a can o' grocery store corn, for food 'n' for memory! |
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