Our winning entry is dark and vicious and wonderfully evocative. It’s a gem of a poem.
Quietly, naked in the pouring rain
I’m waiting as you frantically explain
To your angry husband, waving in the air
Those crumpled jeans you sought to hide in vain.
His sharp demands, accusing stare
Your evasions, sobbed despair
How long did this deception last?
This sick, despicable affair?
Your lover’s breaths are faint and fast
And now your time with him is passed.
Your husband screams like one insane
And from his hand his ring is cast.
Your lover knows no more of pain.
His opened throat – a crimson drain.
I clean my blade and watch him die
Quietly naked in the pouring rain.
(Email me your guest post, Deacon Barry.)