It’s been a bad day
Picking bones,
Sat upright with my phone
Unplugged.
My brain is a jukebox
Of never forgotten favourites.
Song One, guilt,
*How did you not see it coming?
Careless,
You’re disgusting and careless.*
Song Two, no, not Blur,
Au contraire, sharp as hell,
I wonder what dad’s doing now…
Song Three,
A quickstep,
*Give it all up,
You may as well,*
Song Four
A cacophony in gold
Beauty is nowhere near,
Song Five,
Hospital radio,
*And this one goes out to Arthur
Who is dying of stupidity,*
Song Six,
A winter hymn,
Time for rain again,
Song Seven,
A lullaby in off-white,
Telling me that I’ll never
Be pure.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
It’s been a bad day
Picking bones,
Sat upright with my phone
Unplugged.
My brain is a jukebox
Of never forgotten favourites.
Song One, guilt,
*How did you not see it coming?
Careless,
You’re disgusting and careless.*
Song Two, no, not Blur,
Au contraire, sharp as hell,
I wonder what dad’s doing now…
Song Three,
A quickstep,
*Give it all up,
You may as well,*
Song Four
A cacophony in gold
Beauty is nowhere near,
Song Five,
Hospital radio,
*And this one goes out to Arthur
Who is dying of stupidity,*
Song Six,
A winter hymn,
Time for rain again,
Song Seven,
A lullaby in off-white,
Telling me that I’ll never
Be pure.
Request permission to use this poem