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Allegro
by Ryan NardiDrunk,
I can close my eyes and ascend.
I can feel my body burst
and disperse
but remain contained
and rise
and bubble up
into the sky.
I can wish and not think.
I can be in the moment and want it to stop.
I can look back on my mistakes and say "Hallelujah!"
But I'm a writer, and not worth a listen.
I form my constellations out of spit.
I can pour my fucking heart out
and you won't give a shit.
And that's OK. 05/13/2014 Posted on 05/13/2014
Copyright © 2024 Ryan Nardi
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/13/14 at 01:10 PM personally, I give a good hang and crow about writers. How can I not, who pour out their hearts? Such as are worth more than mere listening, but something deeper and larger scoped. |
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