Saturday, April 16, 2011

Extra NaPoWriMo: The Sleep of Whistles

In their dreams the whistles
wouldn't stop. They tried
to freeze criminals, who
continued hiding diamonds
under their vests, or punching
and kicking the president
of the bank. Dogs wouldn't hear
them, shaking their snouts,
and children kept walking
across the intersection, despite
traffic. What they wanted
was to be hung on the neck
of a lifeguard, who aimed
her vision across the beach.
Someone was drowning.
Someone raised his hands
looking for a partner to breathe
his lungs into. Except they'd
blown themselves too hard.
There was no air left to start.

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