Johnny Shimsham
is a lighter
who happens to be white
I’m not superstitious
yet sometimes I do things
to keep the badness away
But it comes back
at night I say things
while I’m sleeping
Shouting in the streets
rectangles with mouths
The Scam
Published
Johnny Shimsham? Who’s he?
It says so in the next line
Love the simplicity of the poem. The last line is very powerful and I love how it ends abruptly. The white lighter myth lives. I’m sensing more than superstition in this poem, however. Something deeper: nightmares, a bad high? Might even be read as PTSD – superstition never hit before, but now it’s sinking in. A lot to think about. Great job.
The last two lines can be seen as akin to a nightmare. I try to give a lot of substance that can be seen in varying interpretations. Thank you for the in depth analysis, I hope you come back for more.
This is wonderfully ominous.
Never trust a white lighter! Nice, mysterious little piece.