deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hidden Away
They were a horde of losers,
The smurfs, but they were my
Horde of losers, each with
A individual, ghoulish appearance,
Like a fingerprint in the
Database of hell. The most ghoulish,
I called him Cunt-punt; his
Teeth were a deep reach into shades
Of swamp creatures. I could
Count on him.
He would never say things like:
“You expect to much from me”.
I would just give him a mission
And he would flash a Jack-o-lantern grin.
I remember the first time I met him.
He took a big hit off of a glass apparatus,
Releasing a cloud of thick, white chemical smoke,
Rivaling those made by youtube e cig smokers,
This, followed by a flurry of words
About a recent convalescence, as he
Finished a fifth-bottle of rum, which sent
Him into a spiral of verbiage, this
Time about how he used to live on a desert island,
How he had a boat and built a shelter,
How the mosquitos in the summer were
Absolutely vicious, how the stars
Spoke to him of a locked treasure chest,
Hidden away...
Published 8th Jul 2022
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The author encourages honest critique.
8th Jul 2022 11:33pm
Absolutely was thrilled to see you in my competition you have no idea! Love how you used the key words, it’s really good.
Hey, I really miss you, I wish we could catch up soon? call me or text me or send me a message in a bottle 🤪 I don’t give a shit lol ♥️
Jackie xoxox
Hey, I really miss you, I wish we could catch up soon? call me or text me or send me a message in a bottle 🤪 I don’t give a shit lol ♥️
Jackie xoxox
9th Jul 2022 5:17am
