Today's poem is by Nate Pritts


All the normally tectonic hunks of cloud, white
white flesh bruised by light, have fused

into one big pangea of fluff. I don't know
if that means anything but I think it should;
I think everything has some sort of obligation

to contain at least a small understanding of the world.
When my wife said she wanted a divorce I just nodded

& left her with her new alpha male, hating that I didn't fight
or call her bluff, pound my chest & shake every tree
within reach. Ah, that would be the life: simple responses

to big worries. I could yell at my food to tell it
I was coming to kill it & I'd let people know I loved them

by hitting myself, purple splotches blossoming
on my chest like clouds. Anybody could see
there was something inside that hurt so much I wanted it out.

Copyright © 2007 Nate Pritts All rights reserved
from Shrug
Main Street Rag
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

Support Verse Daily
Sponsor Verse Daily!

Home    Archives   Web Monthly Features    About Verse Daily   FAQs  Submit to Verse Daily   Publications Noted & Received  

Copyright © 2002-2008 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved