Today I watched my cigarette
as it shook between my fingers
as I drew one harsh inhale straight
from the the thing, and could not tell
whether it was for the force
of my breath or that my fingers
were trembling, and I laughed.
Sometimes I think that the wind
might tip me over, swift, with ease,
as my face vibrates, as I melt,
as my hollow space grows and complains.
When I look upon myself,
it is too comical in all;
I tremble as I laugh.
(c) K.E. Parks, 2012
i wrote this during my 10 am music theory class, for which i was dreadfully late
PS it is really weird to see my poem on the front page. the first three lines are an awfully boring preview...