We smell urine but taste oatmeal
In summer sunrises seem too melancholy
Sunset senses the broken day
When I stand with my hands in the air
I think about trees
Spindly, reaching, wrenching the sky apart
There are a lot of shitty bathrooms
In the mid West
Words scrawled on walls, the smell of rebirth
We are wild life in a world of muses
Handle on the stopped up drain
Shards of splintered fingers dot the sink
My hands are fractured
The pen slips from my grasp
Blood and viscous ink, black and red, my high school
I smell piss, I taste it
I live in the bowels of the universe
In light of fecal perceptions
There isn't really much light
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
every time i see a reference to me in a poem, i'm going to tell you "i got it!" :)
ReplyDeletegreat tone in this. my favorite is the 2nd stanza and last line.
I like the "There are a lot of shitty bathrooms/In the mid-West." I work that "I think shitty is appropriate" by ruin it. Let the phrase do its own thing.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you are trying some poems.