Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2011
I wear a tie around my neck
and Testoni's over my socks
but underneath
my feet
are covered in pitch
throat is raspy
from too much ******
and cigarettes.

Walking into service
some splash water
from a golden bowl
onto their faces;
others snub
their cigarettes
out in it.

A monk teaches
that breathing
is the key to life;
he dies from
emphyzema
as Shaolin franchises
spring up across the globe
selling soap
at golf resorts.
RMatheson
Written by
RMatheson  M/Beating tired bones
(M/Beating tired bones)   
3
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems