Daniel slowed the car down. The exit was
Blocked, nowhere to go, nowhere to go back
Save for the hollow and the light in the black
Save for the red and the curse in the light
Eyes pained; lips dry with the alcoholic curse
It was always the same. And no money on him
Cash has its own green paper thoughts
If only the picture could talk
The mystery might be solved
If it were not for those pesky elephants
It could have become something so much more.
This is a collective poem from the Literary Potlatch, written by the participants on the day, with each of them only able to see the previous line. At present, the image accompanying it is a stock photo but we would really love someone to respond to the poem visually, as only an original image can possibly do it justice. Full credit will of course be given. Please email firstname.lastname@example.org if you’re interested in creating something special we can share. Thank you.
And here’s a very late Medway Monday linky. I’ve slapped myself on the wrist!