Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

A Hurricane Named Desire

That lying, deceitful floozy
batting her washes, massacred lashes.
It’s become a familiar ordeal.
She thrashes everybody’s coast, flees inland
so the weatherman can’t report her whereabouts
on the six o’clock news. He has a feeling
his Doppler is haywire.
Her indecent cleavage breaks our levee
and the whole scene washes away,
becomes a soup of sighs and arousal
mixed with junk mail, diapers, and spatulas
at this ill-timed moment.
You and I and the kitchen sink swirl in the eye.
Leftovers wait with patience for us to go to bed.
 
 

Cathryn_SheaCathryn Shea has earned a living from writing most of her life. Her chapbook, Snap Bean, is by CC.Marimbo. Find her poetry in Gargoyle, Permafrost, Rust + Moth, and elsewhere. See her website and visit her on Twitter for more.

 

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