Young Writers Society

you married that black scarf
that hooks around your neck
like a rosyboa

the brim hat you wear
on sundays has pot shots on the
top from the squirrel gun

the veil of blood cascades
like the river Plath
into the white marble
monstrosity of achitecture

your paper tigers
can't fool me anymore
than your forgivenlips
wet from worring your tongue
between your teeth
like lime after tequila

our town never seemed so small
as when you left and came back
- your face, a Picasso of mystery
me no longer knowing
the corner of your smile

I saw you didn't have any comments on this, so even though it was awhile ago...

the brim hat you wear
This line... I don't know why, but I didn't really like it. Not the whole stanza- just this line. I think it's the 'brim hat'...

- your face, a Picasso of mystery
me no longer knowing
the corner of your smile
I liked this part, but the transition of the lines seemed a bit abrupt. The 'me no longer...' line's wording was a little weird too, but I really liked the last two lines.

I really liked the imagery you had in here. Some of your combined words [intentional, I'm guessing] are a little confusing first time read, but a second reading clarifies it. Really nice poem- I like your writing style.

There was some good imagery in this. I was a bit confused at some points though.

your face, a Picasso of mystery

This was my favourite line, great metaphor!