The Blasted

Blasted
past ripped
from the news
paper
tattered by the
birds with
hard beaks beating
into a pulp
fiction stories of
lovers entwined
rings
of a stump
torn apart
pages
pressed tightly
together
by wind and
wet rain
blurs
words
worm worn
pathways eaten
weather weakens
crumbles
remnants of
the Blasted.

∞

Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).

Today’s prompt: Day Twenty-Three: “Today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem in the style of Kay Ryan, whose poems tend to be short and snappy – with a lot of rhyme and soundplay. They also have a deceptive simplicity about them, like proverbs or aphorisms. Once you’ve read a few, you’ll see what I mean. Here’s her “Token Loss,” “Blue China Doorknob,” “Houdini,” and “Crustacean Island.”