November 2, 2011 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION







Poet: Jessie Carty


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She wanted to paint something real
but every sketch was a dragon:
clawed, scaled, cliched mouth of fire;
a maw. She could argue
that if coelacanths were once
deemed extinct then perhaps
dragons could exist. She could be
the green dressed
girl overhead in the mall
who wished to be
a dolphin because she
wanted to swim forever
with the dinosaurs.



Two things: Judge and Hair

Judge because Stallone slurred: I am the law. And, I can’t say dread without hearing that line even if he was Dredd and not Dread.

Hair that I wish I could have. Locked into a Cheeto-like, less washed piece of scalp personality.

But, what of terror, reluctance or dreadnaut which implies someone who dreads much like an astronaut is one who astros.

Or take it apart:

(d) read. d ( r ) ead. d (re) ad.  (dre) ad.

You could keep going and go archaic: to hold in respectful awe.

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  1. Rivenrod November 04, at 10:09

    Multidimensional, intriguing and brilliant. As usual. RR


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