Poetry

Poem: A Cliché

By: Matthew R Moore

crow flying

As the crow flies ass backward,
As the bats scream in the belfry,
As you beat a dead horse,
You lost me.

I know I don’t have a leg to stand on,
The goose is cooked, so it goes,
And I can take that horse to the water,
But I can’t make a dead horse drink.

You and I, we have parted decency,
We’re the song and dance of poisoned wells
And now we can never go home again,
So call off the dogs of our future.

_____________Because,

Today, is the first day
Of the rest of my cliché,
Away from wherever
You’re jumping off your figurative rocker.

_____________He thought,
_____________As he crawled into bed next to her.

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as: ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.