City Sound Preferences
a poem begging for attention
Do the sirens of ambulances, fire trucks, and cop cars disturb you?
This morning, none of those are singing.
Just the alarm of a car huffing like it's being raped.
Yesterday as I was very angry about employment ---
so much so
that I wanted to throw bricks and bowling balls...
I regretted that I had not become a Repo Man.
Since sausage is not a requirement for a driver's license,
I think that I missed my real calling.
I'd have been an excellent Repo Man.
About the Creator
Shanon Angermeyer Norman
Gold, Published Poet at allpoetry.com since 2010. USF Grad, Class 2001.
Currently focusing here in VIVA and Challenges having been ECLECTIC in various communities. Upcoming explorations: ART, BOOK CLUB, FILTHY, PHOTOGRAPHY, and HORROR.
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More stories from Shanon Angermeyer Norman and writers in Poets and other communities.
Through the Water to the Lights
Fig looked at the clock on the wall in the hallway which read 3:30 p.m. The power was still off, the water outside still not gone, and Uncle Georgio still had not made a sound or come out of his room. Fig knew she had to do something at this point. She went to her closet and got her bathing suit and water shoes to wear so that she could attempt to go through the flood water. After she changed into her swim gear, she went to talk to her children.
By Shanon Angermeyer NormanExclusive • about a year ago
Comments (2)
I am laughing at the commentary on this poem—and right there with you both!! Great job with your unique descriptions!!
Wait What was the car doing? “Huffing like its being...” is crazy 😆 This is such a great poem.