Maria's Poem

                               “Style means the right word. The rest matters little.”
                                   —Jules Renard

She had a few choice words
for us all;
too few, on idiots to waste.
To save them for her poem,
she chose.

she burned all her previous attempts.
she counted her few remaining words.
she dry-cleaned her favorite dress.
Proceeded to wear it
and in three fingers a red pen she held.

A single, blank, eight and a half by eleven page.

Abstract: One over many repeating themselves
Time: Her ever diminishing existence
Locus: The ever diminishing space she occupied.
Form: Austere; her Time's Moral Imperative
Content: Refuse
Message: Decency

On the single, blank, eight and a half by eleven page,
she bleeds red...

- Theory
Style, her style, her pose, her choice.
It's about the vowels and where she places them
It's about the spaghetti and how she cooks it...

- Refuses the blindfold.
the finger
the trigger
the bullet.
Now, the fleeting instant
Now, the perpetual forever...

- Forever defeated.
Time after time
she admits defeat
and never surrenders...

The finishing touch on the top, the title: Maria's Poem

Shrugged her shoulders
and a cigarette, she lit...
Author's Note
Intended for the Blood In The Ink Well competition.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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