Prompt Day #313: Blood seeps in the snow and spread like cherry syrup on an ice cone. What is the source of it?
I know the rhythm of this prose changes a bit as it goes on and originally, I was going to revise it, but then I read it aloud and realized that I liked it that way. I felt like the very proper sounding verses that start the poem are more removed from the scene and as we zero in on the “source of it” the verses zero in on it as well. Idk, see what you think, let me know if you get what I am saying, what I mean and if it is successful in that way. Please let me know if you read it, I love feedback.
I Scream, You Scream
The blood worms its way across the snow cutting deeper as it flows along
The evolution of a hellish canyon in time lapse photography
It runs from its source faster now, blanketing the icy white surface of earth
Bright red like cherry syrup, a snow cone for a monster
With a taste for umami desserts
Steam rises where virgin meets the sin; white lies beneath red
The soul escapes within a veil of rapidly cooling mist
98.6 now 96.4 now 94 now 90.2
Strawberries and cream, rosy cheeks covered in sprinkles of ice
The doorbell to heaven sounds like the cheerful song of the ice cream van
I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream. La La La La La
Run little children, don’t miss the truck singing its pied piper tune
The ice cream man would never hurt you, not on purpose, not on a normal day
But on a day when he finds another man filling his wife’s cone
All bets are off. Watch out little one, he doesn’t see you.
Blood on the snow, like a cherry cone
And a quarter rolls down the street
Eyes focused on the screen of a phone
Never see those little bare feet.