The officer pointed the profile gun
at me: male,
white, mid-forties.
The officer pointed the profile gun
at him: male,
Latino, early twenties.
The flashing red lights are not for me.
* * * * *
This poem was written in response to the profile prompt at Poetic Asides. I wrote it yesterday, and today revised it, using the sevenling form, which I first saw at Scrambled, Not Fried. Thanks, Ron.
Ah, white middle class guilt. I feel it, too. Dang. Nice piece, Mr. Walker.
ReplyDeleteWow! Brenda nailed it! Your sevenling poem is amazing! This is a new form for me and yours is a wonderful piece. I will have to give this a try soon!
ReplyDeleteBrenda, thank you. You did nail it. I might have to revise this one, because I'm not sure the indignation at the unfairness of it comes through.
ReplyDeleteMarianne, thank you. I'm glad you liked it. It was a new one for me too, but one I want to try again soon.
Mr. Walker, I really like the form. I visited your blog to see your sevenling poem after having seen the form at Marianne's blog. I am going to try it soon myself, I think. I like challenges.
ReplyDeleteAh, I did try the sevenling for NaPoWriMo 19. Fun!
ReplyDeletehttp://inthecornerofmyeye.blogspot.com/2011/04/two-sevenlings.html
Mary, thanks for checking out my sevenling. That's really cool that you saw it at Marianne's, came to my blog, and decided to give it a try yourself, which you clearly did. The two of you humble me. I love the connections we're all making. Thank you so much.
ReplyDelete