PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

humbled up enough to hush

back on the barstool once more

in a small strange township…

hushed enough to notice the

crowd we were surrounded by

jackhammer-wielding bikers

smashing bottles on the oaken

and nearly naked wenches

with wrinkled faces like sandpaper

when i finally had to speak,

my father was speaking to me,

my words opened up worlds

palpitating portals rimmed with gems

nothing in the world works to

your favorite unreality depends,

Poetry's defense mechanisms