Submissions by WhatIUsedToBe
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
angst and awe. abstract. It may not always make sense. It may not "flow" like you think it should. But how did it make you feel?
superman
no cape, no tights
an ego - banging air into a glass bottle.
verbose but hollow speech
puffing false authority
and an emblazoned S on your chest-
I'd love to scratch the scar into it permanent.
more my brother than my lover
two anti-heroes
and I would have been more happy to
just talk to you all night in our underoos.
all the best cowboys have mommy issues
looking for every fleshy inch of approval
but we both know
it could have been better
base and not boring-
for a performance and my
reaching for something inhumane...
an ego - banging air into a glass bottle.
verbose but hollow speech
puffing false authority
and an emblazoned S on your chest-
I'd love to scratch the scar into it permanent.
more my brother than my lover
two anti-heroes
and I would have been more happy to
just talk to you all night in our underoos.
all the best cowboys have mommy issues
looking for every fleshy inch of approval
but we both know
it could have been better
base and not boring-
for a performance and my
reaching for something inhumane...
877 reads
5 Comments
the arborist
this limb is diseased
not only shocked but removed
and begging on the ground,
littering rejections -
The bored breeze keeps bringing back.
It is praying for connection
with the source of pain
a sappy blood lust
for gaffs and spurs and choppy bark
“Just hold up this broken dream
and I can secure it with wire and rope.”
We grow into ourselves
and the rope and the wire
become part of the scar
we’ll only slide our tender hands and tongues over.
...
not only shocked but removed
and begging on the ground,
littering rejections -
The bored breeze keeps bringing back.
It is praying for connection
with the source of pain
a sappy blood lust
for gaffs and spurs and choppy bark
“Just hold up this broken dream
and I can secure it with wire and rope.”
We grow into ourselves
and the rope and the wire
become part of the scar
we’ll only slide our tender hands and tongues over.
...
876 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by WhatIUsedToBe