poetry critical

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the tale of steamclock and blackmouth girl

brickwork clock tower
monitoring six million heartbeats
in a moment
they all stopped with a flash,
steam escaped its lips
like a bedraggled chain-smoker.
the hope oozed out in drool
as saliva drained
from the gaunt girl,
her plastic hands
drawing open the dark hole
of her gaping mouth.
wrinkled lips lay on the floor
and the stench of chloroform
pervaded everywhere.
the social experiment
was a success
it proved humanity to be
a dismal failure.
and the clock tower
wailed for the
wide-mouthed girl
who crept along
piles of lungs
searching for the strands
of black hair she was losing.
in the morning parlor
gray light filtered
through soft white curtains
as she sat before the mirror,
brushing back her hair
and trying to ignore
the shadows of her child
on the floor.

23 Jan 07

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