Chris G. Vaillancourt
Chris G. Vaillancourt Poems
A Boy And The Dragons
Shhh. Tell no-one. The dragons are sleeping
like baby lizards in their caves. Breathless from
a day of pillage. Restful after a time of destruction.
Somewhere, on the other side of the hill, a boy
is playing in the woods. Caressing his manhood,
he becomes a symbol of self appreciation.
Be quiet. Don't disturb the boy in his game.
It is his only means of achieving satisfaction.
A reaction would disturb the molecules from
their expected conclusion.
The boy does not realize how close he is
to potential danger. If he awakens the
dragons, he awakens his ...
The Man In The Room
Emptiness is not a disease.
It's a state of mind.
Cigarette dangling from lips, drink in hand,
television softly blacking out the thoughts.
He sits still as a stone in his tomb.
He never makes a sound.