PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

this undesired cigarette sits between my fingers
like a burning chimney in a valley, it is like my life

the colored glasses
in silence, shimmering inwardly like hard candy
they are like my desire to be an artist

these occasional crowds
are like my sex life
drawn along on shy, devout strings
letting his words inside them
make an argument

all lingering false sentiment
from wax and from paper
are the letters I've scattered
into the suggestion box
of open mouths

these benches
are wood pretending to be stone
are made from stones' hearts
waiting for someone to sit
and fall through.