Monday, March 06, 2006

8 Years, 28 Days

She screeched notches
in her vocal chords, like
a gunfighter marking kills.
.44 magnum expletives
fired day in and day out,
splattered marital bliss
on pearl, white walls,
always leaving someone else
to clean up the mess.

(all rights reserved Pat Paulk 2006)

16 comments:

steve said...

Pat, the title sounds like somebody is counting, which i could believe. The sound could lead to hearing loss.

Anonymous said...

splattered marital bliss
on pearl,

that is great. really great images. and thanks for the comment :)

Neetee said...

She screeched notches
in her vocal chords, like
a gunfighter marking kills.

Brilliant visual! Excellent poem!

J. Andrew Lockhart said...

sounds like one of my past girlfriends!

floots said...

and when i get up in the morning i'm treading on shellcases
thank you for these "armour-piercing" words

fembot said...

i resemble that!

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks for the comments everyone! Any resemblences to persons alive, or dead, or having a bad day, oh well... Steve the title was the exact time I was married to wife #2.

eric l houck jr said...

whoa . . . wow . . .

Anonymous said...

Sounded very familiar...Good job expressing it.

polona said...

ouch... :)

Nick Zegarac said...

Screaching like a gunfighter...excellent!!!

bigshoulders said...

nice poem, Pat.
great visuals and metaphors.

for your sake, i'm glad you're not having to clean up the mess anymore.

b.s.

Unknown said...

This is strong and difficult to read in the way that it's difficult to listen to screeching. Both hurt, but you can't help listening. Great ending!

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks everyone!

BS, me too!

Kinderling said...

oh, yes. I love this one. harsh portrait, I can hear her.

nice work!

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks floating!

Checking up on your little brother are we Gabby?