poetry

is a pain in the ass. a craving for ice cream while under a hot burning sun.

last night, a foul mouthed muse sat in front of me in the jeepney; a glimpse

of her soul bared by her open legs before my very eyes.

and this morning, a bald man drank on gin slurring over and over,

” I’M FOREFATHER, I STARTED ALL THI SHIT!!”. his wife offering

him a cup of coffee black no sugar to calm his poesy down.

while in another neighborhood, a college student from a  state university

is inside a bathroom sitting comfy on the bowl and pretending he’s taking

a shit but no he’s just rolling some joint; he hadn’t slept for two straight nights

and now he can even see the traces of the residues of the verses he wrote

every time he take a piss. his mama egging his poet laureate son to come out

……

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