Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2011
Allowed to fit and feel into whatever I want
But some strange academy or death judge
Opens the
Yes-door
Or the other
The words have to hit so hard people feel they gotta hit back
Swing around the baseball bat
Breath the teeth of truth
The words have to love so strong no one feels like porcelaine
“No,” we feel like flesh in the sun

“Language can be wounded”
                          so can your toxic throat
                          so can your hollow chest
                          so can your background brain
                          so can your “every-thang”

Allowed to say and scream whatever I want
But some stiff men with long fingers
Split their mouth as to say “hush”
The words have to spill off the page but can’t stain
Cannot infiltrate
Cannot get into your veins for too long
The words have to mean so much people nod in unison
Clap one two clap one two clap one two clap
“This stuff’s in our bones”

but I have nothing to say
Freds not dead
Written by
Freds not dead
583
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems