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April 07, 2012 / Get Well
by Frankie SanchezHonesty is a naked truth standing
in the middle of a clear desert
on a pale moon night
with skin the color of temperature,
eyes the depth of oceans,
a glass of whisky in one hand
and an invitation to forgiveness in the other.
Let's be honest.
I'm your Get Well card.
I musta got lost in the mail but I'm here now.
Follow my instructions.
Now it's your turn-
be my acceptance letter.
Be my eleventh birthday wish.
Be my lifetime supply of ego boosts.
Be my church bell, be my armor,
be my porn.
I've got a few decades left
and I was kinda lookin' for somebody to spend 'em with.
Let's burn calendars like the universe burns stars.
Without reason.
You'll find a lot of objects in this galaxy get struck by meteors.
Lucky for you, all my ugly's on the surface.
Get past that
and you're good.
The whisky is for celebration.
The invitation is BYOB.
04/07/2012 Posted on 04/08/2012
Copyright © 2024 Frankie Sanchez
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/08/12 at 02:58 PM Perfect in its language and execution of message. |
| Posted by LK Barrett on 04/10/12 at 10:32 PM ...ah, Frankie...I just love it when you eff the ineffable...SO EFFIN' MUCH...but there is a reason the stars burn out, man...that's Creation keeping time...wonderful write in a series of wonderful writes. tysvm, my friend. lk |
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