The Plants Dead And Yellow by Joseph Ridgwell

I collapsed onto a worn settee

And eyeballed the room

They were all dead

The potted plants

The yellowed stalks hanging crisp and tragic

I grabbed a cold beer from the fridge

And went back to the settee

All she’d been asked to do was visit

Once or twice while I was away

And water the fuckers

And as I sat

Looking at those dead plants

The thought struck me

That only a woman could be so cruel

1 comment:

~Susan~ said...

LOL...I like your style. Very riveting even if it was dead plants, it drew me in. And hey, I know a few guys who would do this too. ;-) Great job.

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Black-Listed Magazine is an online literary magazine. We publish on a rolling basis: weekly, daily, sometimes hourly. Send submissions here: blacklistedmagazine@hotmail.com

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