Cigarette ashes hang like eyelashes
of campus distractions,
from broken hand sinewy seams
this be the death of me-
… and some;
No Feelings: numb.
American Literature and computer generated poetry; as art- good start to the semester, the sun is out in all its glory.
Covered in leather and bruises, she moves, tattooed, wounds fester, pimple-faced and searching for pleasure and adventure, no more mommy and daddy leisure.
Beautiful green lost confused, children adults on the move; me too,
How about you?
United States we live in, lucid livid.
Bearing my frown like a leaky raincoat in the center of this rainstorm,
maintaining a productive stance on consuming all there is to absorb.
Advice: Mornings are easier when you don’t drink every night,
but for what I’ve just seen I just might.
Educate me on this system.
Please, teach me now.