Oct. 9th, 2010

cedarmyna: illustrated image of a white bird on a branch at night (Default)
young poets

You take another long, slow drag off your cigarette,
then grind it beneath your heel.

You start writing poetry because of death
and a conviction nobody else could possibly understand

and then you move on to sex, and then maybe death
again, or death and sex, and then eventually

after you've gotten all the doths and souls out of your system,
after you're experienced enough to know

you're so much better than that now, you move on
to death and sex and cigarettes.

February 2011

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
202122 23242526
2728     

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 21st, 2017 04:46 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios