I think I am pouting...

Well, this is totally damned random, but if I was going to get another poem published like last year, I should have heard by now. I have not. Sigh. Sometimes it helps to punch out of a pout by doing something physical. So I am typing up my poem that got published last year in hopes of it giving me a placebo effect. Maybe I can convince myself I Really Didn't Want to have another poem chosen for publication. It is greedy to hope for two years in a row. Sigh. I'm a greedy girl. So here goes:

Sunday Afternoon 3:30 to 3:31

A tumbleweed Coke can clunks down the street
while bus-stop tired eyes gaze to
the water-spotted sidewalk, grey
and darker grey, just like the sky.
The red neon SUSHI sign
Flashes
in a dark window opposite
the direction the bus is to come.
The church on the corner
wears yellow caution tape
around its fire scorched entrance and
a three-legged dog, ignoring the warning
relieves himself there, while his man
with a red vinyl shopping bag and
black umbrella waits, his head bowed.
A skateboard riding youth
Ssssssizzles
past the SUSHI shop and
the bus-stop tired eyes follow his
silhoutte......Till a diesel rumble
set them to shuffling towards the curb
One
behind
the
other.
Cigarettes tossed,
their red embers
fade in the rain
as the bus pulls away.

(the end)

I realized while typing this (decided not to do a cut/paste) that my purposeful use of colour sort of mirrors a band I would come to adore years after writing this piece: The White Stripes. When I wrote the piece I wanted to only have: Red. Black. Grey (white/black). Yellow. as snapshots for the reader. I totally understand the concept of painting yourself into a corner; simplifying and creating 'rules' in which to expand creatively. It is the reason I used to like working with formula poetry. Strict syllable counts and such. The rules act as a trampoline and are the opposite of restrictive....Hey, I almost forgot I was pouting just now....It's working!!!