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September 21, 2014
6:31 pm
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wildatheart3.jpg

It’s all thugs and Powermad
skidding to a stop on a desert highway
where Sailor and Lula jump and dance
and fade into dust and tumbleweed.
It’s love and love me tender.
Enter Elvis.
Enter the Good Witch.
It’s all murder and mothers—
red-faced mothers—mad and envious
with a hit man, and a hit man,
and Lula’s screams that curdle
like her curls, like Sailor’s “Hell yeah!”
It’s robbers and manslaughterers.
It’s all Lynch mobs and dreamscapes
of passion and death and lipstick.
It’s wild at heart.
It’s weird on top.
It’s even stranger underneath.

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Wine is bottled poetry. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson
September 21, 2014
6:47 pm
Writer
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Very nice.  Fast and passionate.  Just to let you in on how I write, I would have written your 3rd and 4th line this way:

where Sailor and Lula jump and dance,
fade into dust and tumble in the weeds.

Maybe I should have kept that a secret.

September 21, 2014
7:55 pm
Moderator

Points: 11908
Thanked 228 times
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I like it both ways, but in this case, I was going for them being the dust and tumbleweed... not so much surrounded by it. Thanks for the comments and I love that you shared your own interpretation!

Wine is bottled poetry. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

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