"shande" poems
we go hungry
go sordid
drugging ourselves with lack of sleep
slow blinking
fast talkers
go dancing
spin circles
sweat out
but don't completely lose our
nerve
nerves
spit on the ground
it's a shande, a shame
drinking our coffee black
like momma did
we don't like it anyhow
tension click clacking up our spines
staring wide eyed at the world
three am's spouse
faithful as anyone
**** failing us
closing opening
staking out cafes for the company
pretending to wait for friends
ordering small pastries
portioning them out slowly
they don't even taste that good
sour stomaches
lip biters
failing to locate
sights for sore eyes
only finding sites for the healthy
the normative
the well at heart
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC