Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The best of us
won't be
the last of us
a friend of mine, a fellow poet and my mentor, just died. It's unbelievable
We board the same
Train
Heading West
On a journey
Through Instagram landscapes
We travel
In open compartments
Where party clad snappers
Make sure the world is
Updated
And that we know
And Facebook knows
Even when they are busted
For free loading
We know
It's their scene
And we're already
Has beens
With our children asleep
Across the aisle
We still travel
In the dark
After they leave
The landscape barely visible
And it is getting late
We are tired
But soon
We will be home
Again
what if space
between us
did not expand

and if we
did not move
in circles

would we
at some point
collide?
Gasping for air like fish
freshly landed
we hit the refresh button
desperately
but we have lost all
connectivity
to the sea
we no longer exist
 Nov 2016 Blair Baker
Annabel
I don't know why they call it heartbreak.
it feels like every bone in my body is broken.
 Nov 2016 Blair Baker
Annabel
L.A likes tan.
Workout clothes,
To prove that your body
Wasn't crafted by the Gods

New York  City likes pale.
Chic fashions,
To prove you aren't from
Queens.

L.A likes thin & healthy.
They scream out,
"WE HATE FAT PEOPLE."
And their year-long sun
Lets you show off your
2 inch thighs.

NYC likes thin & ******.
They hiss it at secret cocktail parties.
But they don't want you to show off.
You need to drown in sweaters.


You're perfect, love.
Keep smiling<3
 Nov 2016 Blair Baker
Dana Colgan
The internal pain
Has struck me again.
Turning me blue
Hating everything I do.
Taking me down
Hearing me drown.

But **** it,
I will never submit.
There's something beautiful
about the way people drink
their coffee in the morning,
with rumpled clothes
and bed head, and
even tired eyes.

In their gaze is slow long
sips of determination,
routine,
hope,
and
caffeine,
and
I can't help but wonder–
what battles
they're
preparing for.
mornings can be beautiful in the local cafe
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of *****.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.

Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks,
it seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
and some guy would laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell you, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean.
My fist got hard and my wits got keen.
Roamed from town to town to hide my shame,
but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the ***** tonks and bars and ****
that man that gave me that awful name.

But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had
just hit town and my throat was dry.
I'd thought i'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon in a street of mud
and at a table dealing stud sat the *****,
mangy dog that named me Sue.

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
from a worn-out picture that my mother had
and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old
and I looked at him and my blood ran cold,
and I said, "My name is Sue. How do you do?
Now you're gonna die." Yeah, that's what I told him.

Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down
but to my surprise he came up with a knife
and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair
right across his teeth. And we crashed through
the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging
in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell you I've fought tougher men but I really can't remember when.
He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laughin' and then I heard him cussin',
he went for his gun and I pulled mine first.
He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile.

And he said, "Son, this world is rough and if
a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
and I knew I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So I gave you that name and I said 'Goodbye'.
I knew you'd have to get tough or die. And it's
that name that helped to make you strong."

Yeah, he said, "Now you have just fought one
helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you've
got the right to **** me now and I wouldn't blame you
if you do. But you ought to thank me
before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit
in your eye because I'm the nut that named you Sue."
Yeah, what could I do? What could I do?

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun,
called him pa and he called me a son,
and I came away with a different point of view
and I think about him now and then.
Every time I tried, every time I win and if I
ever have a son I think I am gonna name him
Bill or George - anything but Sue.

— The End —