PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

(as

the feverish and somewhat
lethargized hands of the sun halfway down the stairwell
begins to wipe it’s glittery makeup off and onto the evening
i share the unkempt savannah and cigarettes of the back porch
with the world. i pull back the grass from the world, tuck
the hair of the evening behind its ears as mine was once tucked,
i brush the dusty and less useful years from the past
off from the exoskeletons of the grasshoppers,
the bones of the bluejays, and i share my half-shelled clam of a porch
with the world. we both undress
and parts of both of us are still high
i feel it mostly in my ankles now that
when i stand and tilt my red eyes up and towards the fleeting falling vapors
of the still-surviving somehow clouds in the evening
they shake and tremble
almost overcome with the gentleness of my own body
the unmanaged pubic hairs left dangling off of the world
the inconsistent sorrowful poems of the grasshoppers and the bluejays
but no human was singing
no stars were falling.)