I: Rolling by hand
This is my last cigarette
The tin is empty
This poetry is poverty
I fucking hate these words
Disband my vocabulary senate
Writing is supposed to ease
It’s made me a label
Some justified bum
I take them down with me
Drowning is a social gathering
II: Day labor
No sun
There never will be
Hammers and nails are for dreamers
Free coffee
Free disappointment
The economy package
Ticket Man
A selective sexist racist
It doesn’t matter
Tonight we drink
Its nickel beers at the corner
Trash can aluminum will make us immaculate tonight
III: Slippery Dickery Dock
This isn’t what I signed up for
Where mini-skirt madonnas are my American Dream
Picket fences painted red
Fertility!
I’ll be sent to collections
The cider never falls to far from the barrel
A contest entry
- CALLING ALL POETS! by CrimsonLips.
525 points, ended July 20, 2008, 6 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
brilliant. a justified bum. disband my vocabulary senate. smack me with a pickled herring. by jove.. something or other.
love the writing (said he)
-
I really like this. There's just something about it and I love the tone of it. I was gonna pick out a favorite stanza but I can't Congrats on the gold.
-
Interesting
I really enjoyed how this poem told a story, a sad one, but an intriguing one. I like your writing style, it is unique and to the point. Thanks for entering!
Adding your comment:
