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kevin-8Poems
American Jazz Jails Slaves Waves at freedom She at the door, too forgetful Bothersome Invention war is This is a far as a sound As nearest minds kindly borrow Works flat And out the door Slaves in jails Forward my ship On top and on back Waters a ways to work Laddles become hospitals Without spoons Only the together people Lift down the cloths Aprons run in country We ain't had enough Jails yet This is beautiful Your from that porcelain city I'm New York poetry too Copyright © kevin mathenia | Year Posted 2025 Dedicated to Adrien Brody Adrien I'm rapping with Rupi Thank You Fide et Amore Irish American Poetry And Plays For a Random House Of Representatives Currently writing around Linda Diaz's tip jars Tip Jars and Squares Poem 1 Mr. Fox Mr. Rogan Mr. Tyson Squares are notes we owe Mr. Galifianakis tickle the bourbons for it tonight Set Selection She spent behind the city     Haunted veranda of Sicily Her mother's sister?        Had she forgotten to write since? The first daughter away from Italy        Before her mystery in burdens named as foreign The behaviour paused and absent faces      The mimes of her part Spoke finish of him in passing I am foreign She beguiles the pages from after I've relented Traitor of soil Today the geese wain     Her gathering, florescent hateful summers Defiance of shelter     Mooring my vessels in war Grand questions of my ability to remain Remaking our affairs   Her story?       Mute Ink, mine Sands hunt up a clarinet Paris, love, I'm putting together sheets as we go We come from different corners of Santa Barbara Jazz Time gives itself to us
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Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:54 PM UTC
American Jazz
American Jazz Jails Slaves Waves at freedom She at the door, too forgetful Bothersome Invention war is This is a far as a sound As nearest minds kindly borrow Works flat And out the door Slaves in jails Forward my ship On top and on back Waters a ways to work Laddles become hospitals Without spoons Only the together people Lift down the cloths Aprons run in country We ain't had enough Jails yet This is beautiful Your from that porcelain city I'm New York poetry too Copyright © kevin mathenia | Year Posted 2025 Dedicated to Adrien Brody Adrien I'm rapping with Rupi Thank You Fide et Amore Irish American Poetry And Plays For a Random House Of Representatives Currently writing around Linda Diaz's tip jars Tip Jars and Squares Poem 1 Mr. Fox Mr. Rogan Mr. Tyson Squares are notes we owe Mr. Galifianakis tickle the bourbons for it tonight Set Selection She spent behind the city     Haunted veranda of Sicily Her mother's sister?        Had she forgotten to write since? The first daughter away from Italy        Before her mystery in burdens named as foreign The behaviour paused and absent faces      The mimes of her part Spoke finish of him in passing I am foreign She beguiles the pages from after I've relented Traitor of soil Today the geese wain     Her gathering, florescent hateful summers Defiance of shelter     Mooring my vessels in war Grand questions of my ability to remain Remaking our affairs   Her story?       Mute Ink, mine Sands hunt up a clarinet Paris, love, I'm putting together sheets as we go We come from different corners of Santa Barbara Jazz Time gives itself to us
#jackblack
Written by
kevin-8
44/M/california
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:54 PM UTC
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