No 6: LINCOLNS

PHOTO BY FAYE RAAD

LUCIA AUERBACH

He used to flirt with fire until he got burnt.

His skin peeled down his ribs like smoked pork,

Was her ghastly skin really worth it?

His feet walked miles on ice to cool him off as he left a trail of pennies behind.

The copper bled into the dirt, creating rings of metallic distress.

But the footsteps of the mob quickly got rid of the mess.

The poor boy didn’t know how to turn his head or use his ears.

The footsteps caught up to him and pushed him over.

His breath left his lungs as if an elephant was the culprit,

But there was no elephant to blame, just the mob of greed.

They were after the one thing they could never have, her.

He stared at the sky as it turned from sapphire to tourmaline as the mob consumed his every last penny.

Too bad they didn’t know they were fake.

And so was she.