I'm like John Lennon without the Money and the Talent

by Ryan Nardi

Blame the man who plays
six days in bed
off as a paid vacation.

A bottle of Kentucky bourbon over my head.

Blame my stubborn ways...
too stubborn to not force my way
between evil and the worried day.

A box with a pipe in her over my head.

I find it hard to tell me
science can be gay--
need to add more book-in-looks to my play.

Old boxes of psychic leads at the foot of my bed.


Posted on 11/28/2009
Copyright © 2023 Ryan Nardi

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by V. Blake on 11/29/09 at 02:09 AM

The title says it all, man. And the rest sounds just as wonderfully meandering. This is a poem for the pathless. Like me. :)

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/29/09 at 05:15 PM

I really like that third stanza.

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