Poem

LIONS

by

Bill Wunder
 

My neighbor's television mumbles
all night through yellowed wallpaper.
Beer commercials, game shows,
Star Trek theme at 3 a.m.,
I play puppet to ventriloquist,
lip-sync every sales pitch;
sing their vacuous anthems.

There is safety in this stale room.

Sleep will not come.
My mind sprints,
I am a step behind.
Traffic snarls,
rises from the streets.
Sirens sing to me;
divas fill the night
until morning's air spills
through my window,
sun warms the floor.

Outside, lions pace
among crowds of strangers
in their stone Serengeti;
they wait for me.

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Bill Wunder lives and writes fiction and poetry in suburban Philadelphia. Bill is a Vietnam veteran and a salesman when not writing.

Lately, his work has appeared in COIL MAGAZINE, iguanaland, MELANGE JOURNAL, SNOW MONKEY, BUCKS COUNTY WRITER, FLUSH FICTION MAGAZINE and BURNING WORD.

He is active in several workshops and hosts local readings. Current projects include a book of poetry titled A SEASON OF STORMS.

Bill can be reached at billybaloney02@yahoo.com.