Vice is dicey cyanide I don't deny
Acidy candy will invade
With vane advice.
.
Forced from her caned divan
I vied to dance with the canid diva
Though she is avid to dine on me.
.
Her idea is to vend me as an iced viand
In her vined cave of acned decay;
But in her nave she is the naive one.
.
I will deny her my envy and
Be the traveling clot in her main vein.
_______________
About the Creator
Gerard DiLeo
Retired, not tired. In Life Phase II: Living and writing from a decommissioned Catholic church in Hull, MA. Phase I: was New Orleans (and everything that entails).
https://www.amazon.com/Gerard-DiLeo/e/B00JE6LL2W/
email: [email protected]
Keep reading
More stories from Gerard DiLeo and writers in Poets and other communities.
Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
I think I need to take some acid and read this again. 🤔
I read this as a reverse whatumaycallit. It worked better for me that way. I like this one a lot.
Hey Gerard, I was wondering if this was for Heather Hubler’s Unscrambled Challenge. Because that requires us to use a 12-letter word as the main word from which we unscramble from. Anyway, your poem was brilliant!