Thursday, February 22, 2024

Half Buried By Susan Isla Tepper


Call it sex 

without really trying

the bottom of your shoe

licking the curb

a straight razor

taking a hike 

across your neck.

Worried a long time 

you thought 

it would be simple

as choosing a paint color.

All options dried up.

Behind the garage

the kids’ inflatable 

plastic pool 

flattened with rot 

& thirty year leaves

half buried.

Ripped corner 

hugs the drain pipe—

a pushed aside lover 

pitched left—

over 

from the year of the flood.






Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty year writer in all genres.  Her stage play "Crooked Heart" will be featured in Origin Theatre Company 'May Play Festival', NYC.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Drunk on a Wednesday By Richard LeDue

The melting snow sings with its dripping, but I can't decide what the song is about, death or life? Which sort of reminds me of sitting ...