Nights of Plenty October 1, 2007
Posted by Jason Keath in Creative Writing, Life, love, Poem, Poetry, sex, Writing.trackback
Sunrises shatter on pure panes of pasture
Piercing the prairies of yore
While cities spread simply to force pockets empty
Fed by whores wanting more
Daytime does spatter while the twilight gets fatter
Filling itself with a roar
More of the same dead buffalo game
Hunting ‘til the land is clean tore
Mornings will fall for night swallows all
Kissing itself on the shore
Riders will come to watch us succumb
And our sight will spread ‘til we’re sore
© 2005 Argonaut
Argonaut 
I like the images your poem presents here. I like the words you chose, and some lines are primo, especially, “Kissing itself on the shore.” :)
While cities spread simply to force pockets empty
Fed by whores wanting more.
Great description. Painful but so true.
Powerful image of a society embedded inside its own pain, lost. When we do succumb and our eyes spread ’til we’re sore, what will we see? I fear nothing will be left to see. Keep up the good work.
Have a nice day.
Michelle