Proper Followers

Monday, February 27, 2012

Dream - Three


concave plastic notel open both ends

the honeymoon suite for my poetry friends

efficient as a mobile home that rolls

rocks when the drunk kicks it on his way past

hums when some bum sicks up all over it

and this is home to the best poet I know

and he has holes in the soles of his shoes

and wears musty and old hand me down clothes

and he lives in a plastic pipe that rolls

he and his princess the poetess goddess

they scrawl their poetry on the concave walls

in a shared red and blue blood mixed with love

propped up against the square peg plywood door

they optimise their day writing poetry

newsprint curtains blankets street sheets scream same

the best poet in the world and his princess

the treacherous candle burning both ends

they can only dream about a hot bath

the only shower they get is the rain

out there alone but not lonely white cold


Originally posted here.

No comments:

Post a Comment