|
93 degrees, baby lets make it snow
by Lauren Singerfor the ill of something
godless, i have pictured you
tired and enchanting
placing waves in
the wrong direction
and creating metaphors
out of two-bit lies.
in my fantasies
you were strumming vocal
cords out of bad symphony grey matter
pretending you were hanging on
to the greater good
long enough to bestow
some wisdom--
but truth be told
i found myself way drunker
than your
vow of sobriety and
you still think i'm cute
kicking my legs off of
peter's back porch
right before the rain. 04/26/2009 Posted on 04/26/2009
Copyright © 2024 Lauren Singer
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/26/09 at 04:10 AM "in my fantasies
you were strumming vocal
cords out of bad symphony grey matter."--That's good stuff. You move through this with a wonderful recklessness, so it seems. A lot of really good lines to be fine found here, but the one above is my favorite. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/12/10 at 03:38 PM what soulful rhythms pervade this melodious ode! one cannot help upon its completion to echo encore! |
| Posted by Maria Kintner on 01/07/11 at 05:46 PM It's been too long since I've read such simple, beautiful words. |
| Posted by Maria Kintner on 01/07/11 at 05:46 PM It's been too long since I've read such simple, beautiful words. |
|
