Diary of a Serial Killer
Wednesday, January 24
Today I went to the Piggly-Wiggly.
They had a special
on tomato soup.
(I know what you're thinking! Well,
I am an artist, of a sort.)
I have a taste for the red stuff—
my apartment is all-white.
(I use quite a lot of bleach)
and the scrubbing does
get tedious,
but the Scot Towels
are most helpful
in that regard).
You wouldn't think it
to look at me,
but I like a bit of skirt—
a flounce, an A-line,
the turn of an ankle.
That last girl—the bleach-blonde,
she didn't want any soup
at all, but ultimately,
there was enough
of the red stuff
to fill me up.
Kat Mortensen©2012
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| Photo by Bob Edelman, 1965 |
This poem is prompted by the above photo from The Mag. Please visit the link to view fine interpretations of the image in poetry and prose. Thanks.
wow Kat..chilling and interesting...
ReplyDeleteI thought the figure in the photo was older and was going to go in a different direction, but when I enlarged it, the guy just gave me the creeps.
DeleteDefinitely a unique take on the prompt, Kat!
ReplyDeleteSee response above. Thanks for reading, Laurie!
DeleteYou nailed this one, Kat. Loved it!
ReplyDelete=)
Thanks Sue! Glad you liked it.
DeleteDelightfully bloodthirsty. :)
ReplyDeleteThat is THE word, Jinksy!
DeleteA clever take on the prompt!
ReplyDeleteJust visited your photo blog too. Some nice shots there. I love Elora, I live about an hour and a half from there.
Thanks, Karen. In which direction? We used to live in K-W.
DeleteAaaagh! I wouldn’t go near him. Thanks for making ny blood curdle Kat! Andy Warhol was a bit creepy anyway wasn’t he?
ReplyDeleteWell, he did wear a "fright" wig! Ha!
Deletetotally creepy...interesting to have a different take on the prompt!! x
ReplyDeleteThanks, Kay. Yeah. I like to go the not obvious route.
DeleteYes, so agree about Warhol! Disturbing appearance.
ReplyDeleteWell done Kat, shades of Henry here.
Thanks Titus. Henry who? Or should I say, Who, Henry?
ReplyDeleteKat,
ReplyDeleteOh my, my..... very disturbing. The people the Piggly-Wiggly attracts! I loved that your evil artist was compulsively focused on the whiteness of his lair and the redness of the bloody soup. Great stuff. =D
like where you went with this...thanks for sharing
ReplyDeleteThanks, Wayne! You're welcome.
DeleteA gory story, and no mistake. :)
ReplyDeleteWell, it had to be told (at least my brain thinks so).
DeleteAh, I was really in to this one. Love the kick at the end. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI liked that kick too, Dave.
DeleteThis knocks me out! Beware of spotless homes!!
ReplyDeleteHey Lyn! Yeah, fortunately, mine will never fall into the SK category. Ha ha.
DeleteOoh, deliciously shivery;-)
ReplyDeleteLike those words, Jabblog. Thanks!
Deleteyou've doen well to capture the style of 1965 - still cool and modern today
ReplyDeleteOllie, I can't take credit for the picture, but I hope the poem works with it.
ReplyDeleteDeliciously creepy...Andy looks the part!
ReplyDeleteHe really does, doesn't he!
DeleteOuch. Nicely told - chilling and all!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Tumblewords. I go where the brain takes me.
DeleteOne never knows ... ;)
ReplyDeleteVery true. Thanks for reading.
DeleteTo each their own in comfort "foods." Absolutely chilling. Thank you (gulp).
ReplyDeleteI'm not a big fan of "Campbell's" - too salty for my taste. Glad you liked the poem though.
DeleteThis is a cool poem
ReplyDeleteKind of twisted, but fun, eh?
Delete