Machination
sometimes
even the most odious parts of the machine
are difficult to recognize
***
Mired
There’s mud in my shoes and there’s mud in my nose,
The mud up my ass is proportionate to the mud between my toes.
If my love for you could be quantified,
I’d say it lies buried somewhere between a burning desire…
And or the need for a quick shower.
We can roll in it
Slide in it
We could even package it and sell it on Amazon!
If there is an Amazon God,
Maybe she’ll sling us
Right next to Sherman Alexie’s latest!
If my love for you could be qualified,
I’d say that we deserve each other…
The desire
The mire
The quick hot shower.
Toilet Paper Roll of Abandonment
i once found an abandoned toilet
in an abandoned building,
that had probably sat ‘unsat’ upon
for a shorter time than your disdain for me.
the toilet paper aged with yellow regret
my love
unrequited.
but the seat cover?
it’s doing pretty good
thanks.
my heart
this toilet
the yellow toilet paper filled with regret
yearning
unused
abandoned
but the seat cover? it’s doing pretty good
thanks.
Ruined
my shoes have worn out
ruined
from walking on the rubble
of the unwritten letters i never sent you
Cold Canned Food Ain’t So Bad
What I know about romance,
Couldn’t fill the empty spot in my bed.
You gave me hints.
You even gave me bullet points
Conveniently printed out on actual paper.
Ignoring your needs wasn’t easy…
No.
Actually,
It was.
What I know about romance,
Couldn’t fill the empty spot in my bed.
Old Wind Thrower
Caught wind of a challenge prompt on a poetry blog I like to frequent, the link to which can
be found here.
Usually — I write, rant, or photograph whatever happens to fall off the top of my head…or from even worse places. So not unlike spelling Wenzday correctly…this was a bit of a challenge for the top of my head…and or the other even worse places.
Which I suppose is the point…
The next 4 posts were supposed to be in just one poem, but when have I ever followed directions?
Thanks Whimsy.
Stop by and check out Whimsy’s words sometime!
Gravity and The Door Chain
no one can last forever
even the door to the outside world
is gone
a larger chain could have stopped the march of time
though i think the ship’s anchor
may have gotten in the way
i can imagine the drunkards
the liars
and the lovers
that chain might have stopped
now…
it just hangs there
unable to stop the air
The Vigilant Lens 