Ok, here is a poem I am working on for class. Please, if you read it, let me know what you think.
Cook Off
Every house you visit someone next
door is barbecuing. On the second floor
the water tastes like blood running
down your throat. Midday haze
covers the valley sky. "Can’t stand
all this smoke," he says then proceeds
to light
a cigarette.
Where’s my invitation to the final
cook-off of the world? I can bring
my own sauce. The Earth burns but
I can’t play. "I should have known by
drinking from the fountain filled with
copper fire," he yells. Who ordered
their planet
well done?
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