Sunday, March 22, 2009

Telephone Pole Prophecy (Poem)

Telephone Pole Prophecy
By Nordette Adams

Yesterday, traveling through broken New Orleans,
I saw a sign on Washington and Broad:
Cash for Gold Teeth.

Cash for Gold Teeth!
Forsake idiotic decisions.
Dismantle the self, but how?

Shroud and sickle come nailing signs on chests,
foreclosures on flesh,
heralding soul's recession.

How we hunger for resurrection.

(c) 2009 Nordette Adams

3 comments:

msladydeborah said...

Good Word!

There is something very creepy about that type of exchange! Just thinking about it makes me cringe.Ewww!

le0pard13 said...

An elegant poem that covers the desperation of that moment.

postpostracial said...

Very sad--and very moving poem in response.