A Cadralor Poem
The Reality of Real
I.
the stones aren’t real. a palette knife edges
the cement, chipped paint stone grey matte.
II.
her shopping bag hangs limp. flaccid. handle
hooks over her shoulder. recycled. real plastic.
III.
he texts women should be sweetlipped and
gentle. She replies, “pillock. you’re unreal”.
IV.
it’s august heat but she wears a woolly scarf.
her fiancé gave it to her. she really loves him.
V.
she thought he loved her too but she has his
phone, and she reads he loves someone else.
Written for What Do You See and Ragtag Daily Prompt: Flaccid. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.
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