"fidel" poems
The youth
Youth is weird,
Somewhat interesting.
An adult pop rock mix
With child soda pop.
Youth is Coca-Cola,
Marlboro, whiskey and energy,
The eternal monologue of life,
ID number, property tax and Netflix.
Youth is John Lennon,
Che, Fidel and Hendrix,
Contemporary history,
ancient and medieval history.
Youth is pants ripped jeans,
Popsicle, lollipop, painted face,
Chicle, coffee and french fries,
Point G, miniskirt and condoms.
Youth is the Dalai Lama,
Techno, rave and rasta,
Drugs, drops and guitar,
Punk, samba and hopefully that-fall.
Youth is the opposite of the opposite,
It's a Friday at midnight,
Mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise,
X-salad, ham and cheese sandwich and X-men.
Youth is D-Day,
Vietnam, Hiroshima and Nagasaki,
Testosterone, Woodstock and Waterloo,
Afghanistan, TPM and MTV.
Youth is a pressure cooker,
Isis, Syria, sukiyaki,
Anonymous, Al Qaeda, rice and beans,
Genesis, Revelation and mint candy.
Youth is weird,
Somewhat interesting.
An adult pop rock mix
With child soda pop.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
Hassle.
Nagsulat si Fidel,
Pero anong nangyari?
Walang napala sa isang daang tula,
Luha ang kapalit at sakit ang sinapit
Dahil pinilit ang gusto pero ang gusto niya ay pumili ng iba.
Kaya hindi na kita gagawan ng isang daang tula.
Titigil na dito sa pang pito at hindi na tutuloy sa walo.
Talo.
Talo lang din naman kahit umabot pa ng singkwenta,
Dahil hindi naman benta sayo ang mga pakulo,
Ang mga salitang kinumpila para iparating na ika'y gusto.
Ano na nga ba ang gagawin ko?
Ititigil na ang pag titig sa litrato,
Lalabanan ang isipan na pagbulay-bulayan ang mga dahilan
kung bakit hindi maaring maging tayo.
Piniling hindi ka na alayan ng 'sang daang tula.
Piniling alisin ka sa aking haraya.
Pinipiling maging malaya.
Magpapaubaya.
Pero minsan talaga
'Di mapigilan magsulat ng isa pa
At isa pa,
Hanggang sa nakakatawa na
Dahil umabot na pala sa isang daan ang mga tula.
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 10:00 AM UTC
Ako'y natatawa sa'king nakikita
Lahat ay naging makata pagkatapos ng
100 tula para kay Stella,
Paggawa ng isang akda'y hindi ko minamasama,
Sadyang nagulat lamang ako nang mabasa ang katha ng isang kakilalang itinatakwil ang larangan nang pagsusulat,
Sinasabi nilang sila'y katulad ni Fidel, mahilig magsulat pinglalaruan ang bawat salita
Ngunit bakit taliwas ito sa'king nakikita?
Gayong piyesa nga nina Balagtas, Rizal at Bonifacio ay iyong sinukuan?
Lumikha nga ng isang simpleng sanaysay iyong minumura,
Sinasabing "Ano ang kahalagahan ng tugma't taludturan?"
Kaya sabihin mo nga saakin mahal na kaibigan, nararapat ba talaga kitang tawaging isang manunulat?
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 8:11 AM UTC
Looking at me, you see a pure, young soul.
But look inside me, you sweet summer child.
Inside me are so many people
I am Che Guevara with the lance of poetry
I am Vladimir Lenin with the shield of quick wit
I am Petőfi Sándor with the armor of ambition
I am Mahatma Gandhi with the horse of music
I am Fidel Castro with the arms of an endless mind
I am Spartacus with the flames of unending hope
But I am The Uncharismatic Man with the burdens
The burdens of a tired arm
The burdens of a twisted tongue
The burdens of clipped wings
The burdens of a deaf ear
The burdens of numb thoughts
The burdens of a dying sun
I've risen up and gone down just as quick
My rebellion was for naught this time
I've grown exhausted from the fights
But I'll never put down my arms.
I'll never cease the struggle.
This war never ends.
So fight with me, brother.
Fight yourself, goodfellow.
Defeat the oppression, comrade.
And never give up...
Not until I give you the call to surrender.
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 1:23 PM UTC
A POLICE MAN CAN DO ANYTHING
Why compromised are the police men?
From all over the world, policemen are sellouts,
Policemen arrested Jesus Christ and flogged him,
Others tortured Galileo Galilai for intellectual cross purpose,
Some of them vandalized Martin Luther King, and his wife,
As they also put Fidel Castro on the tilted trial,
The same are the ones that arrested Mahatma Gandhi
In the same tandem of Colonel Afrifa organizing a coup
To effect putsch against Kwameh Nkrumah, or Mandela to Robben gulag,
They tortured Rubia and Matiba in Kenya down the abyss of mental breakdown,
They kicked in the teeth Abdulla Abdalladiff at Kamiti prison
Then they ran off for a decade to effect the ****** of Robert Ouko,
Their evil tendency was never quenched until
They abducted the County parliament speaker
Of Maembe hamlet in the Nyake Kingdom of potato eaters
And held him in the spine chilling captivity for days and days
Only to release him when he sufficed to stay in dumb freedom.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
aggression must be denied.
****** Pol *** The Duke,
Kim Jong, Mugabe, Fidel Castro,
Saparmurat Niyazov,
the living bad the dead.
XiJinping
proudly announces in
November 2013,
the year of our lord,
they are doing away with
labor camps in China.
******** total,
renamed them
drug rehabilitation centers.
evil must be refuted.
who will call them out?
not us.
coming home from the opera,
some big **** SUV,
played chicken
with me.
I refused to let
him cut in the line.
He followed me
for ten blocks,
honking his *******
till he quit,
cause I would not give
the satisfaction of letting him
spit and sputter.
Took the woman home.
Went out looking for him.
searched hundred blocks.
found him, took out my jack.
(trust me I did not key his car).
when he saw what I had done,
I quoted him Verdi's Rigoletto:
He is crime, I am punishment.
you see opera ain't for *******
aggression must be denied
locally, before it becomes
a national treasure.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:23 AM UTC
Havana, I arrive
in the sweaty thickness of July
caliente y picante
steamy sidewalks, steamy women
chocolate brown, tan and
black against the lemon-yellow walls
strolling through La Plaza de Armas
slurping thick café through weathered lips
in La Plaza de Francisco de Asis
dancing on the pregnant gray stones in La Plaza Vieja
timba, rumba, salsa and son
Cristo, Maria, Yemaya and Obatalá
Havana, I arrive
in the intoxication of your breath
between the acrid fumes
of insecticides and 1957 Chevy's
stepping past the dark grime of your slums
streets plush with tight round bodies
beautiful and sensuously swaying
I arrive snaking past the converted palaces
con las turistas ricos
and the buy-me-a-dress-and-a-ring ******
with their enchanting full-tooth smiles
and undulating earthquake-tremor hips
I hear your beat
the machine-gun laughter of your feet
on the hot cobblestones
with the jinateros and street musicians
chants of Santería drifting from pane-less windows
Havana, I smell your heat
under salty faded sheets
smell the long, tobacco-stained nights
with your hips swaying
to the pale drops of ***
spilt from red lips
and the red drops of blood
spilt from your revolutionaries
spilt from the gorging of Machado and Baptista
and 500 years of foreign dominion
In Paseo de Marti
banners of Che Guevara
flapping in the moist tear-laden breeze
Fidel, cigar in hand
tirelessly raging in black and white
on a Russian 1960's TV
Cuba, I can see the green in your eyes
the peeling-paint bedroom dreams and
dirt-poor joy of your richness
laughing out the despair and desperation
dancing out the oppression and the paucity
the aching of your past
the battles of Castillo De Los Tres Santos
of the revolution
of living
and as I stand on the steps of El Capitolio
looking out at the decaying grandeur
I understand why
I will be back
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Tearing off
Imperialists' mantle
True to his name Fidel
He had lit
To the oppressed masses
And to those in the dark
An much-needed candle.
Weighing things from
Fraternity's angle
And the truth,
Fidel was not remiss
In dispatching own troops
In far off beyonds
To fortify for freedom
Mounted battle.
Considerate Fidel had taught
Innumerable orphans,
Whose combatant fathers lost.
Frowning up on
Amassing personal wealth,
He was building
The human power
Of the 3rd world like Ethiopia,
Among others,
In agriculture and health!
Stooping
To glittering things
While many leaders worried
To hanker for personal gain,
Fidel Castro,magnanimous,
Opted to assuage
The marginalized's pain.
For doing so
The shameless&bloodsucker;
Imperialists were trying
To **** him again and again.
Yes, Fidle was their bane!
Though Fidel is no more
His legacy we shall live to adore!//
Fiedel Castro was a true friend of Ethiopia!
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 8:39 AM UTC
Gaya ni Fidel,
ako'y pinaasa mo.
Pero 'di gaya ni Fidel,
'di ako gumawa ng isang daang tula para sa'yo.
Sapagkat pangalawa pa lamang ito,
at sana'y dito na ito huminto.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 3:46 AM UTC
God help us, Imamu—stop playing the fool
as you babble unhinged in your kente hat.
Bebopping Mao is so very uncool;
what up wit dat ?
Flirtations with Castro (Fidel to the faithful)
and free Cuba Libres imbibed with the Beats
inflamed discontent when your verses turned wrathful
in the streets.
Predictable tirades where Whitey’s the foe,
attacking your hosts like an Afro/eccentric
gets old. It’s a stagnant unmusical show:
dull dialectic.
Who knows why the liberals that bankroll you love it?
Who cares what your most recent pseudonym is?
You old and you mad cause’ you can’t rise above it,
mired in the shizz.
Your lines are pure mannitol: dumbed-down *******
(The blow on the head by that riot-cop lingers!)
The syntax is whack in your ghetto refrain.
Snap fingers . . .
Still you wait for your war—or the Black Star-Liner . . .
Your rage was your royalty, paid in white money.
Your verse sought to give the right wing a dark shiner—
it’s not funny.
Insulting, belittling others more noble;
your legacy leaves nothing hopeful or witty
Just putrid black waters, the flow uncontrollable
under the city.
Inside of your Kabaa are yet many idols.
Your New Ark of verse did not save from the flood.
You mau-mau and bludgeon with words all your rivals
but draw no blood.
Lighten up, wise Imamu. Your age is soon closing.
You wrote for the stage and said some of it well.
But your verse has gone rotten and yields, decomposing,
a nasty smell.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
I would bring you lunch just to watch you walk
across the field; you reminded me, then,
of a young Fidel Castro. I had just
read his prison letters, and was feeling like
maybe we didn't set enough things on fire.
At night, we played games; I would call you
Comandante and undress you, trying
not to smile when I spoke of the uprising,
but I always did. Some nights, my mouth on
your skin and all of those fires not lit
and all of those things left standing
made the world seem too big and my torch seem
too small; I could never be brave enough.
On those nights, you kept my heart in my chest
with your grenade-throwing arm, tenderly.
Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 11:05 PM UTC
Viva Castro
Viva la revolution
Viva the people
Viva the killing of tyrants
Viva the guns of Santiago
Viva the exiled capitalists
Viva the educated masses
Viva the death of Apartheid
Viva homes for the homeless
Viva health care
Viva resisting empires
Viva never backing down
Viva always learning
Viva always improving
Viva learning from mistakes
Viva dialectics
Viva destiny
Viva the future
Viva the flame of life
Viva the hammer of justice
Viva the will of the exploited
Viva our comrades
Viva the titans living and dead
Viva Che
Viva Assata
Viva Fidel
Viva la revolution
Viva Cuba Libre
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 1:13 AM UTC
Fidel Castro, the secular Pontiff
The day began with sadness Fidel Castro is dead despite the USA's bilious behaviour
And ill attempt to **** him, he was able to create a health system second to none
And also made the country with the highest literacy on that part of the world which
will stand the people well in the coming storm
He had many flaws democracy as we understand it was not on the list, mind the way
it is practised in the west is not impressive
I towering political giant his place in history is assured on a page of its own and not
lumped together with King & Queens and other useless historical figure
We expect the lying Cuban mafia will try to enter, bring their I-Phones
and cheap day loans, one hope when they find life will tear them apart that they will
not forsake the socialist revolution and what Cuba was before Fidel Castro and can
so easily a place for gambling and prostitution again
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
They weren't born with a silver spoon
only an umbilical cord tied round their necks
alas this stopped enough oxygen getting to their brains
creating minds full of mumbo jumbo ideas and fantasies
and a bleeding wound that gives them pain without relief
reminding them all the time they are low and never good enough
cause they were born without a silver spoon on a dusty ***** track
It's a blemish that can never be erased
even with a million lucre they still feel small and stained
you can take them out of the manger not the shame out of them
they always believe and know that those others are better than them
with stunted-brains and raving-angst they never see the world right
its us and them burns the burning passions in conflicted sad minds
life long struggles for the struggle to find that silver spoon never had
Their leaders had a brilliant idea in time
mind without a silver spoon their brains always suspect
find all the silversmiths and **** them all and then nationalize silver
one called Stalin killed millions because he saw silver in their teeth
one Pol *** decided he saw silver in the educated and killed them all
this Chavez took all the silver and gave it all away now they are poor
and Fidel says we'll share equally but I and my brotha will only give
The Silver searchers in the some of the West
decided, we should just fight and talk and hold rallies and hate
all those born with the silver spoon must be punished to kingdom
but look says some, you can have silver if you only apply yourself
that's a trick says them of the befuddled minds and complexes bad
let's just be nuisances and hate and holler and torment and harass
Looking closely all their leaders had silver spoons but that's OK
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 5:40 AM UTC
Hanggang sulyap nalang,
Ang aking kayang gawin,
Hanggang dito nalang,
Ngunit patuloy na titingin.
Idinalangin ko nalang,
Na sana mata ko'y may puso din,
Dahil kahit sa tingin man lang,
Maipaabot ko itong damdamin.
Ako'y walang pinagkaiba kay Fidel,
Hanggang sa tula lang ang kayang gawin,
Sa mga balintataw, ika'y isang anghel,
Anghel na nilalaman ng mga dalangin.
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 4:37 AM UTC
It started with a devious question
And the answer was clear
To all
But a curious faction
Fueled by fear,
With the means to concoct
An Orwellian plot
That rendered hate normal,
Like bible study.
Let the Right say, 'Amen'.
"She should be in jail," said
A lady in the deli
With a red cap
And matching tee.
Her eyes spewed fire;
Mine stayed on the menu.
Bypassing the bologna,
I ordered turkey on rye,
To Go.
I had a revolution to catch.
One I'd missed like the polls
On Election Eve.
Dylan shot nine,
Dead.
Sparing one to spread the news
And start a race riot
Before Obama takes away our guns.
Then Vladimir bombed
A city Gary didn't know
But no one asked Don.
"I like you," said one tyrant
To another.
"But I despise Fidel, CNN and ObamaCare.
They are all dead to me."
We heard the lie.
Of the grand Muslim celebration in Jersey
After the towers fell.
And a million more.
Yet the tide of deaf ears kept growing,
Engulfing US in a tsunami
Of pussy-grabbing misogyny
That made Bill blush
And gave Hill another shocking traumatic defeat.
Women from Times Square
To Tokyo rained on his parade
And a speech spawned in 7th grade
Earned an A on FOX
And a wet sticker
Everywhere else.
Let the world say, "Impeach Him!"
~ P
#LyricalAssassination
01/21/2017
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 3:21 PM UTC
the last communist staggers
across the "page of day"
war veterans....
(betrayed)
...sleeping in alleyways
watch this last ******
go by
while thinking of "liberation"
and what further "sacrifice"
they will make
(the price for being so naive)
the last communist
(and shall we picture him with long hair and beard
or shall we grant him a shower and a shave)
watches them
drinking and "shooting"
trying to waken
or go to sleep
"KARL AND FIDEL AND CHE REALLY LOVED YOU!"
he says
and then he turns and keeps walking
down the street
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 6:49 PM UTC
Semper Fidelis
Semper Fidel
Semper Fiddle
Sumper Fiddle
Sum Fiddle Plays
Sum Fiddle Plays Jazz
Sum Fiddle Plays Jazz
looouuud
man.
Care to listen?
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 7:52 PM UTC
Now there are none left, none who commanded the stage.
Kennedy, Khrushchev and Fidel; history has turned the page.
Revolution ran hot in his blood, and for that his countrymen paid.
Cuba was once a prosperous land, rich earth and a favorable clime.
The mob was entrenched in Havana hotels and singers performed for their dime.
Resentment and envy in the hearts of the poor convinced young Fidel it was time.
In Cuba today their cars all can do sixty, years I mean, not MPG.
Physicians and nurses all earn less than cabbies, what use is a college degree?
The poor are still poor; they just have a new master. Only now they are even less free.
Fidel was a man with a secular faith; in fact was a prophet of gloom.
We plotted to **** him with exploding cigars but the dammed things failed to go “boom”
I still can remember tense days one October and the sense of impending doom.
Socialism is great- until the money runs out, as old Maggie Thatcher opined.
When Russia collapsed, Cuba imploded, and Che has been dead a long time.
Today Fidel burns, perhaps some will mourn; others will think it Divine.
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 8:32 AM UTC
today in the grocery store
i saw two men,
at least in their late fifties,
maybe in their sixties,
i couldn't tell, they just looked sort of old to me
at least one of them was wearing a fidel castro hat
the one with the fidel castro hat was also wearing these
patchwork pants of many different colored patches that looked like hippie pants
the other one was wearing a long peasant skirt, with as many different colors
as the patchwork hippie pants
the one in the skirt was wearing some sort of teva like sandals
i saw them again as i was walking home from the grocery store
you could tell by looking they still thought the sixties cultural revolution was still important
and they were still doing something important
and that they were still important
because they lived through the important sixties cultural revolution
and made all magic happen in their hilarious patchwork pants and peasant skirts of many bright colors
on my way home i saw them walkling somewhere
i didn't follow them so i can't say where
i read that lonely people look forward to grocery shopping
a few months earlier in that same grocery store
i saw this really old man who was looking up at the cans in the aisle with the cans
there was a bag in his cart, in the bag some sort of depends like under garment
i looked at that and just thought
oh man, this is not good
his hair was very white
he was wearing some sort of clog
to indicate that he too
had done his part to bring about very important social change
despite the bag not being discrete enough for the contents
11 years earlier in the same kind of grocery store
a few blocks down
another old man with a white pony tail
and a crocheted hat or beret
starting talking to me about debbie harry
i was wearing a blondie tshirt that was way too tight
he wanted to talk about that shirt
he told me he had lived in san francisco sometime ago
or something like that
maybe he said something about cbgbs and inciting
social change or haight ashbury and the glorious cultural revolution
of the sixities
and how he had been there for all of it
i told him that we couldn't be friends with everyone all the time
he got mad when i said that
this was in the produce section
i walked away as he was putting something round into a plastic bag
that guy is probably dead now
i thought i moved on from all that
but i found something i really loved
and let it ruin my life
so i came back to all that
i just pay a lot more for it now
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
Gaya ni Fidel,
ako'y pinaasa mo.
Pero 'di gaya ni Fidel,
'di ako gumawa ng isang daang tula para sa'yo.
Sapagkat pangalawa pa lamang ito,
at sana'y dito na ito huminto.
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 3:18 AM UTC
So What Does Revolution.... ?
In TRUTH... Mean To You... ?
Fighting The System...
Or Being A Villain...
Whose Mission Is Fuelled...
By CASTRO Type Views... ???
Now There Was A Dude...
Whose Visions Were Viewed...
By Many As Schooled...
By... RADICAL Crews... !!!!!
Or... Is Your Position...
The Usage of Rhythm...
And STRONG Lyricism...
That STANDS For MUCH MORE...
Than Violence and War... ???
Where ISM's And Schisms...
And Visions of Killing...
Are Things Long Forbidden...
From Your Train of Thinking... !!!!
The Type of Provisions...
That Lead To Divi - s -ions...
And Friction That's Driven...
By YES... Politicians... !!!!!
Who CLAIM To Be RIGHTEOUS...
When Sending Out Fighters...
To Limit Insurgents...
And Crews Whose MAIN Purpose...
Is BREAKING The Chains...
That Have Them... "Enslaved"....
Enslaved Like Most People...
Who Revolt Like They're...
........ " lame "........
Because of The EVIL...
They Let RULE Their Brains...
CORRUPTION In Functions...
That Are... EVERYDAY...
Like BREAKING The Rules...
Cos' You Think It's Cool...
To Do It For... YOU... ?!?
But Then Getting UPSET...
When You See That These Movements...
Are Used By Our Leaders...
And YES... GOVERNMENTS... !!!!!
What Is Your Defence... ???
... " If it's alright for them !!!! "...
Well That There Is NONSENSE...
That Causes... PROBLEMS... !!!!!
Because What You Present...
Is PRETENCE That PRETENDS...
To... Stand Up Against...
These Leaders And Heads...
of Revolts That.......... END.
Because of Pretenders...
Who... CLAIM TO Reject...
The System That Suddenly...
Becomes... " Their FRIEND "... ?!?
When They Get CORRUPTED...
By... POWER and MONEY... !!!
These People Act... FUNNY...
Like Thespian Luvvies...
Sugar Coated Like HONEY...
When In TRUTH...
They're Just... UGLY... !!!
... Falling In Line...
While Constantly Trying...
To PRESENT Themselves...
As NOT Being Party...
To Parties Who SELL...
Lifestyles of... " GLAMOUR "...
For Which These FOOLS CLAMOUR... !?!
It's REVOLTING The Standards...
They DOUBLE Then Funnel......
Talk That Is CHEAP... !!!
That Proves That Like Sheep...
They Follow and Twitter...
Revolting Like SINNERS... !!!!!
Or YES... INFIDELS...
Some CLAIM Like Fidel... ???
Or Maybe... Chavez... ???
Of Course Now They're DEAD.... !!!!!
You See Revolutions Can Be...
A Thing That Deceives...
When People Believe...
That They Fight for A Cause...
When ALL That They Fight For...
Is Being.... ADORED.... !??!
Because Like A *****
Hypocrisy... RULES...
More Than How They Talk... !!!
Revolutions DON'T STALL... !!!
They CONTINUE The Walk...
Towards... EVOLUTION...
That STOPS The POLLUTION... !!!
... Affecting Us ALL... !!!!!
So YES This Piece Questions...
Heads Who KEEP STRESSING...
" They're Fighting For Change ! "...
When Their Revolutions...
KEEP SPINNING In Ways...
That BETRAY What They SAY... !!!!!
There Is NO DEBATE...
Your Actions DICTATE... !!!!!
REMEMBER The Saying....
These Here Are Just Words...
But One Thing They CLAIM...
Is This Question Today...
When It Comes To Your Movements...
And This Word... REVOLUTION...
"What does it REALLY Mean to You ?!? "...
Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 11:38 PM UTC
Dark is the Night
I wake up at nights
And think of death to the point
When I wake up and it is dawn
Now that Fidel Castro is dead as well
I'm losing the last link with the past
I was in Havana pre-Castro
Wild night of debauchery great for us
But I saw the suffering as the dance
Got wilder and wilder in our ignorance
As young sailors we thought was
Paradise; then the man came down from
The mountain and like Jesus chased sellers
Of dubious wares out of the temple he chased
The whore-masters away back to Florida mostly
And sent women to school
The price was high his sullen neighbours
Never forgave him for taken their playground away
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 5:33 AM UTC
I wondered if he liked slouching
Or sniffing black cigars in his garden
With pitchers of red beer glazing
Under coconuts!
2
Im in a paccific coast lite house trying to find what makes the water on this map solid and walkable.
After all its just a painting coppied on computers and sold to children at truck stops. I want the waves and the gummy worms all at once the coke bottles flowing out in globs of stout the kind i waited to get to and sink into like padded stools over looking the atlantic. Open a mohito on sunday close the pork farm on monday. You lit a smoke and dreamed of climbing the tallest cypress in havanah. I passed out in key west on a marlin charter. We never found a submarine thay day.
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC