It's got that vintage look; silver addicts buying new age lingerie
But it's all still you, and while I'm flattered at the answers you think I deserve
I don't need that memory's taste embedded in my senses.
You're entitled to whatever you think needs to be done,
Needles dripping white and red; asphalt soaring up to meet you personally
But I'm not interested in those sensations; old nudes and paper assholes.
Might I suggest a night out, opera, the hip club scene, where shame is filtered through the taps
Floating alongside the lost remorse and traces of what once was your only solace
A devastating blow to say the least, but what one expects is that comfort should come with age.
To dance around this evident idea, of moving, of staying of growing too big to fit your shell
You move to a fantasy, a glimpse of reality TV that only remote snippets can do justice
But you're simply a nugget in a chicken strip world, and I don't feel sorry.
Author notes
used all the words from the wordbanks, i needed something to jumpstart me, thanks spif
A contest entry
- word bank [should be easy] by the chase.
475 points, ended August 26, 2007, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Might I suggest
a night out, opera,
the hip club scene,
where shame is filtered
through the taps
Pour me another please -
-
On the house
-
-
;] you're quite welcome shakes. Thank you for entering.
-
-
more then welcome. you always hold the most interesting contests.
-
Adding your comment:
