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Barton D Smock
Poems
Oct 2013
forte
addiction did not transform into prose.
familiarity did not breed.
it was not cold, it was heartbreaking.
it was hearing
my blanket needs a blanket.
it was billed as frostbite
with a beautiful write-up
in the archive
of I cannot
move my eyes.
it was not my imagination.
the baby was a city.
it lost us.
Written by
Barton D Smock
48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)
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