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jesse-f-kowalskiPoems
The sun smells like lemons from where I am standing. I can see the broken mirror burning, giving off misty fumes. It's time like these I am grateful for the animals. Mine. The rain puts the flame out; I turn my back again, finally. I can see the yellow, the burnt-orange, the reflection more clearly from here. Give me peace, it begins on your plate. Power in the people, forever. Remember, it was they who revolted in 1789. Not just one. I will not rest until he's lost his throne. Who? Every man. Up is down, the left is right. Break the cycle, break the coffee. The citrus sun is left, as always. To be human is to be inherently rudimentary. Remember. The book can always be re-read.
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May 3
May 3, 2026 at 8:03 AM UTC
the citrus sun is left, as always.
The sun smells like lemons from where I am standing. I can see the broken mirror burning, giving off misty fumes. It's time like these I am grateful for the animals. Mine. The rain puts the flame out; I turn my back again, finally. I can see the yellow, the burnt-orange, the reflection more clearly from here. Give me peace, it begins on your plate. Power in the people, forever. Remember, it was they who revolted in 1789. Not just one. I will not rest until he's lost his throne. Who? Every man. Up is down, the left is right. Break the cycle, break the coffee. The citrus sun is left, as always. To be human is to be inherently rudimentary. Remember. The book can always be re-read.
03-05-26
jesse-f-kowalski
Written by
jesse-f-kowalski
19/Other/England
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 8:03 AM UTC
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