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savio-reyesPoems
We were up all thru out the terrible night sniffling like ******* addicts like sick little youth 1930's depression oh the Great our fat lips hung like dying mosquitoes in the coming brothel of winter and her long scorched dress that I inflamed with my Vietnam stolen lover zippo of gasoline in a Sober frenzy of jealousy now her Glare is angled narrowly at lust tobacco coughing up and down side ways in dreams as if I were a butterfly addicted to cigars we were up all thru out the night counting our skin cells watching the television laugh at our faces He sobbed “how the orange metallic streets bent to our theatrical emotions on 12th street” oh the glory of our thoughts and touch was ransom was devil was god was god watching in his leather seat? Wearing his glasses reading the Bible? Or does he read Russian Literature or does he only read Latin I and I were up all last night guessing Morphine using the Sister's pay-phone copper to connect with silly 3 eyed hipster hookers their eyes wide and green with white salt like a ***** lake that you stumble upon drunkardly with a laughing Angel High on Cough Syrup and mortality amused exhilarated passion-ated by this new opportunity for Adventure's drawback which is death or Boredom MY innocents is deteriorating with Age like the alcoholic richness of 100 year old Wine sadly money monday didn't go to church hope that lady with wisdom in her hands forgives me then I ate now I starve clutching at the windows painting a boy staring at me wondering if I were real As I wonder if his thoughts are my own We were up all night translating the moon's shadows and hiccups into finger paintings and strep throat.
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Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
James Dean
We were up all thru out the terrible night sniffling like ******* addicts like sick little youth 1930's depression oh the Great our fat lips hung like dying mosquitoes in the coming brothel of winter and her long scorched dress that I inflamed with my Vietnam stolen lover zippo of gasoline in a Sober frenzy of jealousy now her Glare is angled narrowly at lust tobacco coughing up and down side ways in dreams as if I were a butterfly addicted to cigars we were up all thru out the night counting our skin cells watching the television laugh at our faces He sobbed “how the orange metallic streets bent to our theatrical emotions on 12th street” oh the glory of our thoughts and touch was ransom was devil was god was god watching in his leather seat? Wearing his glasses reading the Bible? Or does he read Russian Literature or does he only read Latin I and I were up all last night guessing Morphine using the Sister's pay-phone copper to connect with silly 3 eyed hipster hookers their eyes wide and green with white salt like a ***** lake that you stumble upon drunkardly with a laughing Angel High on Cough Syrup and mortality amused exhilarated passion-ated by this new opportunity for Adventure's drawback which is death or Boredom MY innocents is deteriorating with Age like the alcoholic richness of 100 year old Wine sadly money monday didn't go to church hope that lady with wisdom in her hands forgives me then I ate now I starve clutching at the windows painting a boy staring at me wondering if I were real As I wonder if his thoughts are my own We were up all night translating the moon's shadows and hiccups into finger paintings and strep throat.
savio-reyes
Written by
savio-reyes
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
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