Coquelicot in the Purlieus

Please read and enjoy the amazing poetry by a talented writer.

Color me in Cyanide and Cherry

hilly_suburbs_by_ducksofrubber-d4d7ckp*Image found HERE

*This is a very long poem, just a heads up. I really appreciate and commend you if you read all the way through!

Coquelicot in the Purlieus

There is no wound to point
no light to enter,
see an angel pull a loose string,
see the devil tuck it at the center.
An old watch, rusting,
Hearts like a dumpster,
Fur coats hanging by the hook,
Smell of fresh pastry.
Love at the cemetery gates,
Faces floating like garbage
Down the brook.


When you speak words here,
They are there, but they are not.
The roofs are crooked, green,
Tied by the skinny, bony hands of willows,
White with stains
Beneath the sky,
Split and spilt
Magenta, purple, bluish hues
Like a probed placenta,
Dripping its hope
Down the windows
And how you think it’s beautiful
Even though you know it’s just
Light pollution.


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