deepundergroundpoetry.com

Deaf

Drip  
drip
drip
you chopped the carrots  
into a red bowl  
and the silver tap was still turned half way
to the left.
I could hear it.
Step  
step
step  
away from the chopping board
it wasn't made  
to be used for loud violence,
still the silver tap is turned half way
to the left.
The fool, that day, was you
when you cut your hair
and brought it home in a green bottle-shaped jar,
with half an ounce of ganga and only three toes on the right  
foot...
I never liked you as a drinker.  
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 0
comments 6 reads 791
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:46am by Louismatteo349
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:41am by Louismatteo349
SPEAKEASY
Today 00:36am by Louismatteo349
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 11:19pm by Ahavati
POETRY
Yesterday 11:05pm by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 6:23pm by Liziantus-Marantus