Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I look at my broken purple-tipped fingers, holding a cigarette drawling with ash cupped around the ghost of a brown beer bottle, the smell permeates my fingers painted purple with polish named with "no more film" No more film. Huh. That's not a question. I click the shutter, but nothing's there to capture the permanence. To project onto. Nothing will be lacquered with a gloss a painting of time with a smooth finish. There might be a flash, but still nothing. I might have disposables, they're costly to purchase, costly to develop. Same-o. Same-o. They cost around ten dollars to develop, that's cheap, but expensive, in large quantities.
0
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
no more film
I look at my broken purple-tipped fingers, holding a cigarette drawling with ash cupped around the ghost of a brown beer bottle, the smell permeates my fingers painted purple with polish named with "no more film" No more film. Huh. That's not a question. I click the shutter, but nothing's there to capture the permanence. To project onto. Nothing will be lacquered with a gloss a painting of time with a smooth finish. There might be a flash, but still nothing. I might have disposables, they're costly to purchase, costly to develop. Same-o. Same-o. They cost around ten dollars to develop, that's cheap, but expensive, in large quantities.
oh look, a metaphor for dating right now.
glass-can
Written by
American
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem