Amaranthine Paintings

The walls are
cluttered with
hideous paintings
of bread baskets
and wine glasses
and we all drop
like flies, our bodies
broken on the floor,
left to decompose.
And slowly, our bones
blow away, one by one,
but the paintings stay.

Reviews

[xx]

Title to content connection - I like it! I'm one of those people who have trouble picking out appropriate titles and settling on a generic word that occurs more than once in the poem its for - the title you chose for this poem is much more gracefully chosen.

The quality of the content of the poem, now, speaks for itself. Crowded, cramped words, words with connotations of degradation and so on. The poem has excellent flow, excellent word choice - I applaud your writing skills.

I hope to see more from you in the coming days!

-Mina