PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

While I drink a cup of coffee,
I moderate the pencils in the box.
They must be neat and sharpened,
all the time they must be as
if just bought.
To drive them into eyes is
considered
fashionably wrong.
To poke them into skin
determined to
always be incorrect.
So nothing is left to do but
to drink the toilet water
as it meditates in the
bowl.
And stop the laundry washer
from cleaning all
the clothes.
Must not have the smell of
detergent wiffle
like leaves through
the shadows.
And I too am a shadow.
A gleam in
somebody
else’s balls.
Rob me of my dignity, call me
names and drink my
urine as it patters
down my leg.
We were wondering if the
dirty glass in the sink
was any relation
to the
dirty sunglasses
on the porch.