Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
in this cube
of angular anger
there's a town
made of clouds.
sour wind
sounds like bed sheets,
& indigo solar radiation.
don't explain:
our eyes are the same,
but the depressants seem to be
gooeyer in
your world.
find a way
to create a rubber
convenience store.
(to buy squishy cigarettes)
build glass palaces
so the world can
see you strip down.
your world.

and you'd like that.
(in the future)
Marion Cline
Written by
Marion Cline  Richmond
(Richmond)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems