A poem about the plop (WPOM)

2.21.15

Throwing chicken thighs into dirty water
with flick of the wrist,
a hopeful skip soon to be sunk.
With festering bacteria that clogs the drain,
in book end fashion, it stops the stand-alone reading
prior to the plunk.

Author's Note

After a poet reads on http://www.worldpoetryopenmic.net/ , the producers signal the end with a splash sound, and tonight, that sound has apparently been chicken thighs (or so they say).

BTW, the rhyme wasn't intentional. It just happened.