Corey Boiko Aug 26

I forget what I forgot,
But at least remember that.
Hold on, I think I got it!
I'm looking for my hat.
I must've left it someplace,
but can't recall quite where.
I scratch my head, Eureka!
The hat was on my hair.

I've got to get this down,
or forget again, I fear.
So I check for a pencil,
write behind my ear.
There I find my glasses,
out of sight for years!
Now I see it clearly,
No wait, it disappeared.

I forget if I forget.
Was I already here?

Inspired by true events, written in the style of Shel Siverstein
Corey Boiko Jun 7

I met a woman in France,
Reading the same book,
But it wasn't quite like that,
So my book turned into a cover.

It seemed I had picked up some thing mesmerizing,
While browsing a train station bookstore.
I read an enticing tale of desire and loss.
Was it just cheap fiction to you?

A girl met me in France,
And we got an empty beach at sunset!
Except it wasn't quite like that.

Trash littered the closing beach
closest to downtown Marseilles.
Loud speakers played
Something upbeat,
Missing its bass.

The sky was obscured,
but wasn't it still like that?

Corey Boiko Feb 22

I sold the one thing I should not,
Some thing I had not.
I traded nothing, in exchange for
writing my own life's script.
I was instantly granted
each and every wish;
I corrosively imagined
I had seen through the mist.

When I found out that
who I advocated was
what's in the details,
I stole the one thing I should,
What I had sold.
Since that meant
I'd steal nothing,
I got back my soul.

Corey Boiko Dec 2016

Jumping on the crunchies
And crushing where I step,
Absorbed in each breath.

Where fall leaves stale,
I plant these stomps
going nowhere,
In particular.

Then I saw you
Stepping on
crunchies too,
consumed,
Simple and true.
With all of you.

Stay playful, stranger, curious.
There's enough crunch
For the both of us.

— The End —