deepundergroundpoetry.com
Tale of the wreckage
We'll call them wreckage
because they didn't crash
down holding a manual
between index and
middle finger,
or the way fuckers
revel in forgetting
having good
answers tucked
away inside their
tight arse pockets,
they remember how
mama always said:
'it doesn't take
much in thinking
before the doing'
sometimes you
will find yourself
sitting down with
that shitwreck,
making it a brew
listening to each
crash they call
out within you
cause that wreck
may not receive
every apology
it deserves.
It'll be nine years
since they stopped
trying to drown a
rainbow liver in
bars and clubs
but on occasion
arms lean over
tables, watching
souls swimming in
everyones glasses,
catching themselves
sleeping up against
cold walls in areas
rough as arseholes
salt tears streaming
down, bashing their
bastardised skull
so desperate for
a quick cleanse
counting days
in sweat, seizures
and nightmares
their agony wish
on bringing them
but this morning,
they raise an empty
glass body towards
clear skies and
begin again
mama in the back
of their head saying:
'it doesn't take
much in thinking
before the doing'
knowing one drop
can gather storms
lasting a lifetime,
how the word no
is a silent rebellion
bringing a peaceful
silence their bastard
skull has ever heard.
Published 30th Apr 2025
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 88
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
