White Snake Empty




I toss my keys on the counter.

I see her as I take out the trash.

Inside: With the stale smell of curried yams

my fingers dial 911..




I look at her again and wonder,

what the coroner will say

when he finds that snowy white snake

slithering through her veins.




Waiting, sipping my coffee, twisting

the gold band on my finger.

I'm hungry, I fix a ham sandwich.

Stare at the needle and wait.


By:MJones
copyrite 2008

Paragraph.