The Millennial Pedestrian

Rage

Josef Stalin stood beside me
in my parents’ bedroom
looking at the carpet.
He was wearing his Marshal’s uniform,
smoking a pipe.
“This room needs two red rugs,” said Stalin.
“Of course,” I said.

Then we went out to the hallway.
Stalin kicked irritably at the rugs underfoot.
“These absolutely have to go,” he said.
“We’ll put red rugs here.”
He was right, they were hideous
with yellow and green swirling patterns.

“Why does everything have to be red?” I asked.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 31st, 2006.
It's part of the New Poems category.
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