What I've been writing and why...

Your special place, is so full of foreign objects,
That I don't f_cking know where I fit in anymore.
Don't let me in if I call. Don't let me fall at your feet.

As I exit my bedside I find myself
Entangled in cables, at gunpoint I
Attempt to talk my brains all over the
Wall but by now at least I'm barely alive
And her saliva begins to strip me to the
Bone, preparing me for peristalsis.
Grinding me to dust like charred
Remains in a motor car carcass.

If you want to tell the
Funniest joke, make
Sure that your friend is
Easily amused and has
Been on the receiving end
Of bad news all week, he'll
Laugh you half to tears.

Seasonal Affective Disorder is a growing issue
Among adolescent young plants, and how in
The hell do you dress for sun showers anyway?

Dress more suggestively, sun
Soaked and seventeen, out of
Reach out in the open, returning
To the same sex scene in all
Your moleskin modesty.

I gazed out the window,
As a vandal threw a brick.
I drew a perfect circle free
Hand on an off-road trip.
I found no one to drink with
So instead I drank for four.
I got to know you better
Than I ever had before.

I'm trying to
Forget what
I was just
About to say.

If I was telling
Lies then they'd
Probably be true.




Poetry by Richard Cloon
Read 629 times
Written on 2010-04-24 at 00:22

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