DEATH TRAP

DEATH TRAP

I had nothing to do
But spit marbles
At the heads of park pigeons.

So I asked her over to kill some time.

She asked me
To come play hide and seek with her.

We waltzed like demons on her fire escape
And because we were both feeling
Ragged out and empty,

We decided to make a crank call
To the Suicide Prevention Center.

And we used some note pads she had stolen
From the Sheraton
To write piles of imaginative suicide notes
Which we then mailed
To all our imaginary friends.

Then
We escaped to an imaginary island together
And the rest is history.

-Bruce Potts
Revised Copyright 2011
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here's another one to add to the over 365 poems on this blog that no one ever reads. From my college days. I was a bit gloomy then too!