crumbled and rolled

bruised 11/13/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 12:49 pm

shaking yer pinkfeather rattle trap
to attract a fellow young feline
is fantastic not in practice,

intellect served sunny side up
is no good courting breakfast,
though my grandparents were chefs

i don’t believe you, hereditary, genetics
account for no failures of mine, no,

not the ponderous nicotine pendulum,
nor the marginal, glistening mouthfeel.


2 Responses to “bruised”

  1. Paul Squires Says:

    Your poetry is fantastically wonderful. It goes beyond the surface of things, it’s like some kind of exploration.

    • i’m glad you see something in them. thank you! your reading creates new meanings. (and you literally are the only one who reads them.) sometimes i read them myself and wonder if they’re even worth reading- if they are simply self-indulgent drivel- or if there is any value to them besides their aesthetic/rhythmic/sonic appeal.

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