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Morning-After Breakfast
Contributed by
Butterat_Zool
on
Tuesday, 3rd June 2003 @ 09:35:00 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
Sleepin’ in ‘til two o’ clock,
grew up just a little bit last night,
eyes are heavy, lights are low,
stand on up for one more go.
The phoenix, snared by batarang,
where mists and clouds abound again,
and steam arises from the ground
where camping-fires are not found,
as ashen fogs rain down all cold,
and kiss the sidewalk, dark and old.
The sunny day of cloudy skies
will live until the sunlight dies,
but ‘til that time,
I’ll do just fine
to sit a bit awake
outside,
where the great mother’s teat
will caress and nurture
the human foetus,
curled-up, and crying,
alone, kissing strangers
as a temporary reprieve.
I love America.
What the ****?
A dollar-fifty.
In the park.
Tuesday night.
Crying/watering the lawn,
Merry bells,
there’s nothing else to do.
Cathartic, guilt-ridden, and sleepy.
There’s nothing else to do.
Copyright ©
Butterat_Zool
... [
2003-06-03 21:35:00]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Morning-After Breakfast
(User Rating: 1 )
by ladyfawn on
Tuesday, 3rd June 2003 @ 09:47:40 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| ...its wistful at those times, isn't it? i love this poem like i love all your poetry, you make every word count for all it can be, again, an excellent write:) ~hugs n' love nessa |
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Re: Morning-After Breakfast
(User Rating: 1 )
by Ilhar on
Tuesday, 3rd June 2003 @ 09:55:19 PM AEST
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good write
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