Torn Scraps

Torn strips of silk flutter
in a light breeze, ’cause
someone left the freezer open
while scrounging late at night
for ice cream, shuffling the Samba
in a sprouted pink Teri-Cloth robe.
Cha cha cha, the lone curled figure
danced to scraps of dreams,
skin peels, Ephedra tonics, red satin
chiffon dresses, with a black lace slip
underneath, just in case.
The papers promised fame,
tuxedoed men lined the stage,
careful not to give names. But
floodlights fizzled, headlines
blurred with spilled champagne,
scratched records became static.
Muffled jazz could almost be heard
as the cold, dry air sifted
past the smiling face glowing
in the spotlight
while ice crackled
impatiently in the background.

9 thoughts on “Torn Scraps

  1. Like a moth flirting with the flame, the darkness flirts with the light. Sooner or later its curiosity draws it too close…and the darkness disappears into the light. And so too it is with dark poetry and what gives rise to it.

    Wishing you all the best as the Holiday Season creeps into our hearts like sunlight through a darkened bedroom window.

  2. David, lots of visuals in this one, very poignant. This has a musicality to it that I really appreciate!

  3. Quite an entertaining peice! The smile at the end creates the mood I think. It would be sad if not for that. Just thought that was interesting how that simple line could change the entire mood of the peice.

    I’ve linked you over at my place! Wouldn’t want to lose the url after all!


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