Saturday, December 31, 2011

Drunk Poet at the Wrong House by Shelley Ontis


I have been forced
from my home.
There were no stones
thrown through windows,
no warnings, threats,
no symbolic fires lit
on my lawn while I was gone.

Instead, rain pelted me on the stoop
right through the awning I know
I put up last year. The porch light
that burned out yesterday
nearly blinded me,
amazing-ingly. I spilled
my beer. As a siren woo-wooed
ever closer, locked doors scoffed
at my jingle-worn keys and I thought:
I am not wanted here.

Warm Body by WildChildSounds

Shelley Ontis is a freelance writer in Illinois. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in over 25 publications, including Defenestration, Bartleby Snopes, Niteblade and the upcoming Zombie Kong anthology from Books of the Dead Press.

Photo by Adam Lawrence.
Street artist unknown. 

Austin, TX is home to Wild Child, a large band with a gentle sound. They released their debut album "Pillow Talk" last month.  

1 comment:

  1. So clever and funny, unless her house went into foreclosure or something!

    Really enjoyed listening to the lovely Wild Child song...