Pack of Thieves

A car, built with muscle,

roar, and core of

iron fist, purrs at the door.

Three men step out and

feet hit the concrete, a beat

like the one in my chest,

step and then rest,

they crest my threshold.

Cold looks, empty faces, spaces

between their teeth, their smiles a wreath

and hands-on-knife-in-sheath

...I bolt the lock, but he hits like a rock

and the shock turns me round.

The first hound with a bound

sniffs at my collar like an object found

for the first time...

but they've been here before.   

Reviews

[Belle]

Imagism beyond convention.

What you have in here shows the difference between a homegrown poet and a formally educated one. The way you played with words, how you placed them is noticeable. This may be an early write from you ( if I am right), but it is obvious that you were careful in weaving the words and this poem shows a bit of like a polished work.

But whatever we have in terms of forms, it is how we think that matters most, though of course presentation is secondary.

Welcome to the community, Benjamin!

[Sami Khalil]

Very interesting....Pen on ...:).....................