Nov 2014
Eyes slit like a stoner,
hearing things that
never made a sound.
Dust white as sugar
looks like residue
from an eight-ball line
recently snorted off
of the Old Testament.
Alluring at the top
and somewhat appealing but,
pointed at the bottomβ
which penetrates the grain
cementing self-control together.
Buzzed and bleeding through
rusted nostrils eroding
from illicit use and
spiraling out of control.
Keeping it together
strictly because a
corrosive adhesive has been
stuck to an addicted membrane.
Eventually, the adhesive
will wear off and
everything will fall apart.
hearing things that
never made a sound.
Dust white as sugar
looks like residue
from an eight-ball line
recently snorted off
of the Old Testament.
Alluring at the top
and somewhat appealing but,
pointed at the bottomβ
which penetrates the grain
cementing self-control together.
Buzzed and bleeding through
rusted nostrils eroding
from illicit use and
spiraling out of control.
Keeping it together
strictly because a
corrosive adhesive has been
stuck to an addicted membrane.
Eventually, the adhesive
will wear off and
everything will fall apart.
In my poetry writing class we had to choose an object our teacher brought to class. I choose two screws that were held together by a single piece of scotch tape. Our task was to write three different poems related to the object, and this is one of the poems I came up with.
