deepundergroundpoetry.com

A poem never posted

Benevolent boxcars
Glow bright
Against a New Orleans moon
I remember you playing your banjo
Singing, “I’ll be there soon”
I took that to mean
You’d move from Boston
My temptress in blue
I took that to mean
I’d be there with you
So as the moon hangs low
Over bovine-lined fields
I walk ten miles
With a vengeance to wield
My bandanna hangs limply
From a chloroform hand
I’m coming my dear,
 to be your man
I’ll be the one to brush
that loose hair from your face,
your only concern
 in the entire human race.
Written by Bloodtemptress
Published
Author's Note
I missed the competition here by only a day. The one for the letter B. I still wanted to post because I thought it came out well.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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