brett-jonesWhisper

Sort

Sort

Dither CollectiveThe moth with newspaper wings sat under the arrow lungs of the eyeless / blood dripped falcon, more whole than the super-glued roman sculpture. / Next door a 50’s con held up church with a roulette table in the kitchen,

19

4.2k

Regarding The Closeted SkeletonsNext time I act like a heartbroken Holmes, / do me a favor and let me drink it away. / Words hurt what whiskey soothes.

16

2.9k

How Do You Categorize Your Thoughts?“No one is ever satisfied with the success, is ever satisfied with the success, is ever satisfied with the dream. It’s the hunger before a meal when you realize how good it is to be alive.” / With each passing day I feel youth slip from my bones like scoops / falling off a summer ice cream cone to blistering pavement.

20

2k

Spontaneous Human CombustionTo tell the story of the nice-guy / is to tell a tale of unlost innocence. / There is no complexity that circumstance can’t remedy. There is no effort

48

1.9k

Avacado StarshineBumpy reptilian skin splits to reveal / a placid galaxy of green cream / that moves through my throat

11

1.8k

AdonisThe seven day prayer candle burned out / seven days ago, and the twisted blinds / are held together with chopsticks and moving tape

19

1.6k

There's Always Someone Cooler Than YouTwenty-somethings, homeless, / but with perfect fashion, / in muted greys and translucent lilacs

45

1.5k

The Day After A HurricaneI made chicken soup in August. / The timing is terrible, but / you should still try a bowl.

21

1.2k

We're Dropping Like Flies.The old metaphor rings / too true as I think of friends / lost to the lives they lived.

29

953

Ain't That A *****I hate my hands. / I'd love to write about it, / but every time I try,

4

892

Hello PoetryVoting