Streetcar Named Desire

RSS

By Albert Ahearn

Long deceased actors ‘play-acting On an unobserved TV set blaring from a vacant living room. In the kitchen a widower tends eggs splattering in a pan. Then came a loud interjection from the room beyond, “Hey, Stella!!” sending through him a trembling pall memories of his wife Stella who had died many years ago and never gotten over it. Still as a storefront manikin till the last memory faded he realized what taken place: the son-of-a-*itch burnt his eggs! Ding! Ding! I tricked you didn’t I?

This poem has no votes yet.

To vote, you must be logged in.

To leave comments, you must be logged in.

No comments yet.