On a Peppermint In a Hotel Room
by Jarred Worley
Crushed red candy of the ancient guild of delight.
Crawls after being stomped on and gathers hair and dust.
The sticky lips and stripes scream of the non-concentric irregularities.
The shards of guarding the hissing words of slander
Have been cracked and shattered,
The mirror of innocence, the pinwheel of childish demeanor!
Now, the tongue of the vacant vagrant walks out and lolls,
Dipping and dripping the saliva out in streaks and pools of distrust.
The casting off of an old life with the crunch of a past regret,
And the residue of grief on the black heel of a shoe.
Poem Copyright © 2009 by Jarred Worley