Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
croob Nov 2018
i lay stargazing
silent as the absent sun
gravity grounds me
like the touch of my woman
like the very thought of her
croob Nov 2018
fear of failure is my mistress, who lives
only to control me. she lives solely
in my thoughts, in the corners of my
dreams, and wears a mole under her
watchful, painted eye. i love her, but
she’s no good for me, and anyway, she
makes love to every lonely man she meets.
croob Nov 2018
pushing eighty, planting daisies, life has
rung you like a towel. once before,
your heart would beat for men and the fear of
dying alone. now that you are doing
so, it’s not as bad as you’d supposed.

you marvel that you are alive, you think
sometimes that you have died, for you
are pale and peaceful as a corpse.
you pat the mulch and cut the weeds and give
back to life what it unduly takes.
croob Nov 2018
a lil ol man in shorts; hell yeah. he rocks
back and forth, sittin in his rockin chair.
the moon’s unmoving, the man is grooving
to the tune of stars and shooting
aliens with his arms (which are guns);
pow, kablammo, ow, kablammo, pow pow.
croob Nov 2018
men
frogs are jumping, buns are *******,
men are wanting, grunting, hunting.

dogs are yapping, cats are napping,
men are fapping, snacking, lacking.

snails are leaving trails behind
while men are killing off mankind.
Next page