my ribs are broken
one of my fists is broken
in a silky and stubbly haze
the last of these few days appears like a slide-show
right before me

my lungs rot like deadwood
oak
pine
needles
soak up in me

avant-garde obituaries
sit on my wall
and stare back at me in pastel prisons

ink like kisses of inexcusable phone calls
3 am
no more meaning
significant chapters
in a mediocre life

carved out of oak
smells like pine wood

desire empties
the bank account
and smiles leeringly
behind the counter

answers are half-bred truths
the sun breaks down too early

this motor is tired

and it's stellar in the desert
but i'm nowhere close
this letter doesn't have a destination

I liked reading your poem.

enjoyed

welcome.....

cool, hope to see more from you! welcome!

Hey i am finally reading some poets who write just a tad more "on the younger side"....................which I really enjoy reading......




I am a big fan of the younger poets and the more urban influenced poets


Good luck to you sweetie!!!


Would love to see more!!!

An effective choice of words, bravo!

Welcome