Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
My window is open and all I can hear are those birds.
Chirping, chirping away.
It never stops.
I find myself mimicking their sounds.
Like a broken record, stuck in my head.
I turn the window fan on to drown out their noise.
I still hear them, chirping.
They are stuck in my head.
I close the window of my smoke filled room.
Puffing another cigarette in quite.
Until I open the window again,
I can't get them out of my head.
So, I smoke and the fan drowns out their noise.
My room is clear of smoke, but filled with birds.
Charles Bukowski style
George Maris
Written by
George Maris
1.4k
   Cecil Miller
Please log in to view and add comments on poems