Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Burnt Toast

The damn toaster's on the blink again:
bitter smoke stains the kitchen ceiling black.
One day it'll burn down the house
and then you'll be sorry. Penny-pinching old bastard,
I went to school in the same clothes three years running.
I scrape black crumbs and choke on the stink.
Bitter smoke stings my eyes. I'm on the blink.
Pretty soon I'll burn the house down.
Then you'll be sorry.

--for Big Tent's predicament prompt. Or maybe the escape prompt. Possibly part of a series of poems using the sense of smell.
Collection available! Knocking from Inside

3 comments:

Kelly said...

Great poem. Really well crafted. I especially love the line "I'm on the blink."
- starsandwillows.com

Tumblewords: said...

I admire the semi-promise in this!

Marinela Reka said...

Great poem, wrapped up so beautifully!

Short Poems