Peyote Pete

Peyote Pete

Shuttered up from smoke from the chimney   
this pallid youth chews buttons for breakfast
and shrinks back from the guy on the porch.

In sunlight his amorphous softness
is less menacing; the grimacing
and insidious sniggering subsides

 ‘He is a living gin’ Pete tells me
‘you can tell by de whites of his acid green eyes
and the thump of his Frankenstein boots’

Again he hears the voices inside and
shuttered up by smoke, his hands to his throat
curls up into a ball of asphalt screaming

 ‘agh de fumes, de fumes, agh de fumes!’

Copyright©Talia Hardy 2012
Photography: Eric Lachey
Author’s note: This Poem was concieved through the found poetry method and is derived from John Updike’s Couples p.77

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