deepundergroundpoetry.com
Where Do the Words
Where Do the Words
Where do
the words go
when they leave
your lips,
having read
what I've said?
Perhaps full
rebellion,
having never heard
such stuff,
you throw out
my meaning
and start
to get rough.
Perhaps laid out
in lingerie,
you finger the words
and start to play,
bringing yourself
to a cosmic edge,
finally compelled
to fall off the ledge.
Or scrambling
fighterjet words
of your own,
you stumble
in darkness
to dial
at the phone.
Maybe you're laughing
to hear
of such a drama,
sarcastically bidding,
"Go home
to your mama."
Or maybe
you're touched
and moved
to declare,
there's more
as inspired
to add a new dare.
Where do
the words go
when they leave
your lips,
having read
what I've said?
Perhaps full
rebellion,
having never heard
such stuff,
you throw out
my meaning
and start
to get rough.
Perhaps laid out
in lingerie,
you finger the words
and start to play,
bringing yourself
to a cosmic edge,
finally compelled
to fall off the ledge.
Or scrambling
fighterjet words
of your own,
you stumble
in darkness
to dial
at the phone.
Maybe you're laughing
to hear
of such a drama,
sarcastically bidding,
"Go home
to your mama."
Or maybe
you're touched
and moved
to declare,
there's more
as inspired
to add a new dare.
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