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Scottia Afar



his face, eroded away
like rusty iron in the salted humidity
of mid-atlantic states'
Fords & Chevy's poc marked
and wrinkled hides,
no, his was more gashed, deep and dark
like ravines left by flash floods
in the dry deserts' mud
the salty wind swept west
blown by winds in whispers
she would stray, he would stay
he'd pray and tear, and wail
she'd come, complain, and leave again
a-whisperin-wind she'd sin
his hair, hah, drizzle grey from jet black
thin from fallin out
fallin to the floor
where he'd lay knotted up
parasympathetically and sympathetically
in states of paralysis
still, he always got back up
and he'd pray and tear, and wail
she'd come, complain, and leave again
to sin with her skin to spite his hide
and hid he did
he underwent a climate change
a mood swing they say
a-coolin and a-warmin the same
then she came, startin to complain
and he wanted to prey, tear, and howl
...
instead, he spread black wings
tattered, but more than capable
bid her leave
and let fall her "love" from him
tryin to fly from her to his home
a blue-yellow bolt struck
they say he disapeared
and say I, "He found love."

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Submitted on March 10, 2011

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