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POEM: Guillotine

Guillotine

They all wrote
poems about him
in the little orange book.

In the little orange book
they all wrote poems
about him and

every time his name
was mentioned
the poems got smaller.

The poems got smaller
when they mentioned him
and his name got bigger.

As his name got bigger
it was harder to see
the poems in the little orange book.

As the poems
became harder to see
the poets got up one by one.

The poets got up one by one
to leave the room
with their heads hanging low.

As the poets
left the room
he walked to the table.

He walked to the table
and picked up
the little orange book.

He picked up
the little orange book
and tossed it

into the fireplace
where the orange flames
gathered around it.

As the orange flames
gathered around it
he laughed and laughed.

He laughed and laughed
and his laughter
carried out to the street.

His laughter carried out
to the street
where the poets shuffled.

As the poets shuffled
they heard his laughter
and wept.

The poets wept
and with each tear
they faded.

They faded until
like the little orange book
they were only ash and memory.

/ / /

2 January 2022
State College PA

Published in My poems Poetry

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