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JT Nelson Jun 2019
Cradle the smell
Of french fries and quarters
Clinking their way
To the belly of Donkey Kong

The bowling ball
Slides and pins they hit
Coughing as they
Fall in the smoke-filled room

Dipping in ketchup
We salute the fallen red-ringed pins
As high scores fall and initials go up
Below the row of quarters for those to go next.
What playing video games USED to be like!
Gabriel burnS Oct 2017
Too good and yet true
Too beautiful
To taste
Without falling in daze
Without following
Delirious
An aroma trail of craving
On the back of my tongue
I’m getting equal measures
Of heaven and hell
Perfectly balanced

My eyes are my traitors
Plotting to open the gates
Sending stowaway warriors
Whom I never gave orders
To slip behind walls
Of thickest black pupils
In the Trojan horse
That my eager look is

And gazes are bridges
Unwillingly
Supporting the siege
Of epiphanies
You and me
Caught in our ambush
Completely surrounded by Us
Phoenix Bekkedal Aug 2017
Found the quarters for the laundry
Counted them by loads

We have enough for eight

You picked me up and counted me by mistakes
I weighed a ton but we carried it together after we exchanged numbers

I did the laundry
And week after week
Again and again until we had enough quarters for one last load
And I washed the bed sheets
Figured we could take all our ***** clothes off and lie in the clean there
Because it's nice to have a clean house

We have a clean house
When I can't sleep I scrub the tiles
Until they're bright like the rising sun reminding me
I should have been sleeping
It's okay though
You're asleep and can't tell you're alone
I ask myself while making coffee
If you know
I've got bags underneath my eyes
And the floor is cleaner and cleaner every passing night
And the smell of bleach resonates off the square white tiles
You continue to wake and just smile
Smile
Just smile
Look at me
And smile
Like the world is smooth
And runs on smiles
My insides mock fire
"Are you tired?"
"No I'm just wired,
drank too much coffee
I'm not tired."
You know
And I know you know
I guess you're happy with the clean floors and extra space in the bed
so you don't have to worry about rolling over at night or kicking me
I write good poems about laundry.
This is an older one.

— The End —