Subway (an acrostic poem)

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Submerged below tons of dirt and rock

Under the people scurrying like insects in metallic carcasses

Believers in mass transit meditated as their bodies gently swayed

Weaving their way through a complex anthill structure

And then regurgitated back up to the surface like zombies risen from the dead

Yearning for homes instead of brains

Brush (an acrostic poem)

 

Black hair slowly pulled through his fingers

Releasing the locks he began to get to work

Unkempt snarls scraped by, but he gently unraveled them

Soon he was able to sweep his hands through easily

Her moans of pleasure reminded him how much he liked being a hairdresser

 

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