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Little Man on Monday Afternoon

Little Man 0n Monday Afternoon

Quarter to five...
He stands at the corner of the pavement
Slamming signs, making sure he is heard,
Stabbing stake into dampened earth
That relents with a sucking sound
Softened by two weeks worth of rain.
He has made the attempt
To end a contract, already entering into another
Knowing full well his actions are illegal
He is a large man, in a large truck
Stomping toward me,
Finger pointed, dropping f-bombs
In an attempt to bully...but that's okay.
I can drop f-bombs too!
It is a word, after all, and I do so love words!


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Brian Miller said…
haha...you tell him tash...and you might want to think about keeping a blackjack handy for large men...
June 20, 2011 at 9:34 PM
Fireblossom said…
Sistas are droppin' 'em for themselves!

Okay, that was strange...I followed the link from One Shot to a poem of yours about a seaside town, commented, and then found myself here. Where that seaside poem came from or went, I have no idea!
June 20, 2011 at 10:06 PM
Louise said…
Yeah Tash...you tell 'em (but I agree with Brian, haha) ...love the new blog look too! Fab! :)
June 21, 2011 at 8:07 AM
Tashtoo said…
Don't you just LOVE Mondays! lol Had to share my little rant. Had a 500word lead up done, but it didn't really show MY best side :)
June 21, 2011 at 8:10 AM
Pat Hatt said…
hahahahaha yeah don't be afriad to use the f-bomb and the finger as well, would have been interesting to see the 500 word lead up too..haha
June 21, 2011 at 9:21 AM
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