She burns <br />her old boyfriends <br /> <br />watches <br />each <br /> <br />(one by one) <br /> <br />writhe & wriggle <br /> <br />trying to get out <br />of the situation <br /> <br />their lies <br />(now as then) <br />had put them in. <br /> <br />Their lies <br />going up in flames <br /> <br />their smiles <br />nothing now but ash <br /> <br />& the charred <br />remains of photographs <br /> <br />(here an ear <br />there a hand) <br /> <br />survives <br />the auto-de-fe <br /> <br />almost as if <br />she couldn’t forget <br /> <br />her very favourite <br />bits of them <br /> <br />her many & various <br />men. <br /> <br />Now they are <br />nothing <br /> <br />but smoke <br />drifting over next door neighbours hedge <br /> <br />leaving little smudges <br />on the wind tossed washing. <br /> <br />She felt she <br />had escaped <br /> <br />their power <br />to hold her. <br /> <br />“Well, that’s <br />wipe the slate clean! ” <br /> <br />“Let’s start <br />again! ” <br /> <br />The sound of her <br />Rabbit vibrator <br /> <br />louder than <br />next door’s lawn mower.<br /><br />Dee Wright<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/burning-boyfriends/
