reaching the back of you
not sure I could. not sure i would.
scent of the crime uncommitted uncovered
the meandering is the man demigod demagogue taking
time
pleasured mercy
the remaindered searchingly
suffices
you don’t speak plain english the only tongue i got
insert the coin in your slot commencing researching the
way in and
don’t think i want to find the way out to the
back of you hiding in the inside learning the way you visualize
playing amy winehouse as an overlaying graph to the autoroute
to the south of france, sur-la-mer, why ever leave and you come
in my mouth poems new each time
no exit. no back of you. stuck in a longingly heaven
this house is my home and I know the sun brightest
when i put my coin in the slot of play and press the
new tune button at 4:10AM
thanks for the quirky comments for this quirky poem. Not my normal style. Inspired by a poet here who writes quirky poems, many of which, I fail too, to fully comprehend. The only way I could hope to understand them was to "insert the coin in your slot commencing researching the way in and don’t think i want to find the way out to the back of you, hiding in the inside learning the way you visualize...no exit. no back of you. stuck in a longingly heaven" and getting stuck, unsure if I want to reach...