Megsies' Maiming of Metrical Manuscripts

Bowling

The pins fall
all of them kneel
to one fat
stupid ball.

Of course,
this ball is hurled
by some kind of
supreme being

but who knows that?
The puny pins?
Please!
They can't.

They are lost in
their world,
trapped in the cycle of
being picked up

just to fall again.

Electrocute

He stands silently
trying not to think,
trying not to breath
the musty smell of the jail.

He thinks of cocaine,
the soft white powder
that he had abused
so many times before.

And wonders if, perhaps,
it’s anything like
‘riding the lightening.’
Maybe, he’s already dead.

The house on the corner

The house on the corner,
with the huge butterflies
on the side?
It was this outrageous
shade of blue.
I shook my head
in a mixture of awe and pity
every time I passed it.
They redid the siding
sometime last month.
It's a beige now
and I'm not sure where
the butterflies went.
Now, it's just
the house on the corner.
I kinda miss
the butterflies.