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Thursday 27 October 2016

Friday (87 of 365)

Day 87 of the 365 day poem challenge. 

Word of the day dearth meaning: "an insufficient quantity or number."

Friday

A soft sigh echoes 
Down a long corridor 
This long exhalation 

A fellow clicks his heels
Bounces by eager pedestrians
Exalting the weekend gods

Miserly folks stand at attention
Their eyes are muddled perception
Dark ringlets percolate 

A drawling yawn billows 
Cascading out of bars
This ecstatic combustion

Roamers can hardly tell
Their faces are pebbled
Poor lost souls

Flame-tickled foods and drink
Pickled brains dance about
Smattering the streets

Plagues of hard hitters
In brimstone jackets
Gamble their nights 

Dancers flamenco, salsa, ballroom
Percussion beats on soiled floors
Seducing twisting forms 

The lady folds in
Her land is inside of her
Busily her mind ticks 

Repugnant snacks wished on foes
Pantry woes force Contrived 
Half-baked ideas

A dearth of deceit
Stirs his melancholy just
Prior to sleep...

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