421 Readings | 1 Rating

Poets who Choked Themselves with Plastic Bags

Love kills
Rivers are too cold,
and I can’t sleep.

A bullet in the pale face of the sun
A bullet in the pale faces of people
A bullet in colorful automobiles
A bullet in plastic toys
A bullet in the Bible, millions of cold copies filling rotten warehouses
A bullet in expensive arts
A bullet in superstars
A bullet in packaged food,
and increasing populations
A bullet in the night that touched my childhood face
and never came back.

Love kills
Rivers are too cold,
and I don’t want to wake up.

Posted 04/23/14
Comments (0)
Would you like to leave a comment on this profile? Join Ink Node for a free account, or sign in if you are already a member.