Are you a wheel
just spinning through your cycles?
You rolled around;
my turn today?
Or are you the red-gold autumn moon
that I howl at?
Am I just a passing phase?
'Cause I've
been around a while
and I
can't style up these hours
into any kind of impressive ********
story that could explain.
Guess I'm an ash-
tray, guts filled up with cinders
grey faced
and fouling the atmosphere.
And I guess I'm addicted to this
upheaval
and a devil's voice in my ears.
Are you a picker
filling up your basket
chewing up cores
thrown to one side?
Or are you the grey-green hungry worm
crawling, curving
through the apples of my eyes?
'Cause I've
been here so long.
And I
can't dress up this time
in any kind of inventive falsehood
or story that would explain.
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 12:58 PM UTC
Are you a wheel
just spinning through your cycles?
You rolled around;
my turn today?
Or are you the red-gold autumn moon
that I howl at?
Am I just a passing phase?
'Cause I've
been around a while
and I
can't style up these hours
into any kind of impressive ********
story that could explain.
Guess I'm an ash-
tray, guts filled up with cinders
grey faced
and fouling the atmosphere.
And I guess I'm addicted to this
upheaval
and a devil's voice in my ears.
Are you a picker
filling up your basket
chewing up cores
thrown to one side?
Or are you the grey-green hungry worm
crawling, curving
through the apples of my eyes?
'Cause I've
been here so long.
And I
can't dress up this time
in any kind of inventive falsehood
or story that would explain.
Request permission to use this poem