Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
I can write this one I
got this one

I know the guy quite well

smoke curls from his lips
the same ones that

blow

night after night

a dented horn
sunglasses

black suit
and funeral shoes

it seems I'm caught in a loop
hearing that same old

haunted refrain


Whit Howland © 2020
Impressionistic Pulp Jazz  poetry.
Whit Howland
Written by
Whit Howland
Please log in to view and add comments on poems