Rogues
A grift of sunshine teases bulbs to bloom
through snow, whose cold wheeze huffs
through a jemmied window; men with badges
paint the frame, looking for clues. Who
dumped the fridge across the driveway,
let its vapours heist ozones from the sky?
Breeze-blocks hold up a car where kids
play out their game of cops and fathers -
they'll harvest the world for a laugh.
Monday, July 10, 2006
NaPo redraft: Rogues
Not that this one needed much revision - just cut out the middle and sew the ends together:
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