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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
1.3k
   Cecil Miller
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