Poetry: 2 by Boona Daroom

Playing With Rockets

 

Mother frisbees palm frond.

Laced flabellum cut too thick.

 

Factory boss geeks wave like

a 90-minute pastor perplexed

 

eye pockets preying hosanna.

How lorded swarm we puzzle.

 

Guerrillas blot discount ills

iteration. Jaws hang moons.

 

Windbag

 

I can

knots hold the ear to the head

I did

Naughts expect conchs to bungle

cash

HEY it’s $$$

lordy

tires tier wedding cake

dressed up for supper

guests in dust

the valley

takes home the local

snow on the hills bow

guitar tied feet

wander loam

just hovering

Timmy Reed

Timmy is a writer of poetry and fiction. He edits the What Literature section of What Weekly.