On the backs of
flies
we wait for the
next thing.
Something is
always coming.
A birth or death,
food or hunger
hatred
laughter
love...
Something is always
coming around the
corner.
The Mad Hatter with
mushroom tea.
A strange color of
blue that tastes like
almonds.
A ****** that sparkles
in the night.
Listless mornings
of languid
walks with the
wife in the cool
of the evening.
A knife in the back,
a shark attack,
or maybe, just
possibly, you write
a poem about
waiting for the
next thing.
Jun 12, 2025
Jun 12, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC
On the backs of
flies
we wait for the
next thing.
Something is
always coming.
A birth or death,
food or hunger
hatred
laughter
love...
Something is always
coming around the
corner.
The Mad Hatter with
mushroom tea.
A strange color of
blue that tastes like
almonds.
A ****** that sparkles
in the night.
Listless mornings
of languid
walks with the
wife in the cool
of the evening.
A knife in the back,
a shark attack,
or maybe, just
possibly, you write
a poem about
waiting for the
next thing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tpMDoNXg_U
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry to promote my books, Seedy Town Blues, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse, and my latest, Sleep Always Calls. They are available on Amazon.
Request permission to use this poem