by Rowan Luis

my body's a ball of compressed bone

my legs don't stretch

my neck is bent like a coat hanger

my back is bent

like a neck

and the dregs of guinness in my room
smell like marmite

thick slow brown sludge


Posted on 08/02/2010
Copyright © 2021 Rowan Luis

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Tom Goss on 08/02/10 at 11:37 PM

Wonderfully evocative language.

Posted by V. Blake on 08/03/10 at 01:25 AM

Not sure whether you meant to mark this as explicit, but regardless, it is fantastic. On a related note, I would love a Guinness about now.

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