deepundergroundpoetry.com
bed springs
I don’t like the way you keep circling. I’m dry. My legs clamped shut. Yes. No. But come tomorrow. Into me while I’m sleeping. When the sun’s behind you——you are tall and dark. I am crying. I want you to fuck me crying.
A flock of canaries cruising south. The world’s glowing. The song of one shot-down glowing. Lifting us up. And I can feel you scratching: silver & gold, bronze, pewter, porcelain, like days gone by, Once Upon a Time, etc, etc. A giant, crawling beauty. I’ve spent my life in it. Hold my hand. Hold it.
A flock of canaries cruising south. The world’s glowing. The song of one shot-down glowing. Lifting us up. And I can feel you scratching: silver & gold, bronze, pewter, porcelain, like days gone by, Once Upon a Time, etc, etc. A giant, crawling beauty. I’ve spent my life in it. Hold my hand. Hold it.
Published 8th Jun 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 0
comments 4
reads 776
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
9th Jun 2013 2:59am
9th Jun 2013 6:15am
10th Jun 2013 5:37am
there's a deepness here, I'm digging but my knife hits shale. transition from vulture to canaries...
11th Jun 2013 8:07am
I like this piece a lot. The sense of immediacy from the staccato sentences works well, and I like the way you use the imagery at the start of the second verse to a powerful effect.
