A simple man,
Rugged to his core,
Sits, scratching stubble to classic rock.
Puffing on smoke after smoke,
Drinking cheap whiskey and chewing the ice,
He wonders where it all went.
Tag: Smoke
my existence offending
My existence offending,
With every breath of smoke
Which is taken alone,
I march forward.
Fire erupts from the candles at the wake.
A man lies waste deep
Not ready to be interred.
Yet the birds still sing
O’er a body cut down
By Smith & Wesson’s
Newest thresher.
A miracle occurred today,
He has proven something,
If only for himself.
He has become an Ozymandias,
A king of the dead to be forgotten.
The works of his dying hands
Mattered only to his fleeing soul.
The triumphs of loves won
And the woes of years of defeat,
Are but memories forgotten.
As promised
Smoke drifts in ribbons
from between my fingertips.
I stare in silence at the orchestra
For my eyes.
For me.
I dwell on thoughts of romance,
You dwell on the payment for my love.
My heart lurches across my chest
As I watch the acrobatic theatrics.
I long to know the spider-monkey.
She has a life,
A history,
A story.
These fools see her as meat.
I see her as more.
Dcid Corvid 