Submissions by DEADMAN
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
DEADMAN - WELLINGTON AVE
we
kissed greedily outside the bar on Wellington Ave
spit and sweat and snowflakes and the horn of a cab
our secretive dance. the distant flirt was growing perverse
settled for each other cause we've settled for worse
homeward bound. ye olde corolla put the rev in reverse
drop you off before the storm. exchanging sets to rehearse
you're a close second. i'm a competitive first
at cultivating loyalty then breaking its curse
love hurts and so does opiate withdrawal at noon
clearing out my throat so i can talk to a room
of absentees and...
kissed greedily outside the bar on Wellington Ave
spit and sweat and snowflakes and the horn of a cab
our secretive dance. the distant flirt was growing perverse
settled for each other cause we've settled for worse
homeward bound. ye olde corolla put the rev in reverse
drop you off before the storm. exchanging sets to rehearse
you're a close second. i'm a competitive first
at cultivating loyalty then breaking its curse
love hurts and so does opiate withdrawal at noon
clearing out my throat so i can talk to a room
of absentees and...
#regret
#lust
#alcohol
#confessional
#SelfReflection
425 reads
1 Comment
DEADMAN - GIANT
i used to ride my father's shoulders
hands clasped, i was a giant
gazed in astonished silence
at the world from such a height.
safe and sound and warm and fresh
made them proud with every breath
drawn deep to sing along with tape cassettes.
the smell of cigarettes inside my overalls and blankets
my mother's favorite apron had a pocket stitched in front
where she planted both her hands
when she was growing impatient.
waiting for him. so was i. headlights rolling at 10
meant he was home again. his Jeep wrangler was red
rusted...
hands clasped, i was a giant
gazed in astonished silence
at the world from such a height.
safe and sound and warm and fresh
made them proud with every breath
drawn deep to sing along with tape cassettes.
the smell of cigarettes inside my overalls and blankets
my mother's favorite apron had a pocket stitched in front
where she planted both her hands
when she was growing impatient.
waiting for him. so was i. headlights rolling at 10
meant he was home again. his Jeep wrangler was red
rusted...
#father
#childhood
#confessional
#SelfReflection
#hurt
382 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by DEADMAN
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