Justin Tallman Poems

And the face I wear
won't stay the same
it changes
from day to day
...

BEHOLD
AND BOW!

The greatness
of her majesty
Patches The Cat
...

headphones
volume on high
eyes closed
from the staring gavel
...

The breaking of bottles
liquid splashes and drips
dropping like low volume bombs
the after math of violence
...

Every shots a shot
you either miss your head
hit the target
or the coin is tails
...

My eyes are plastered on
plastic screens
LCD piercing Iris
winking hello to London
...

Blue eyes stay with you
like a madness you can't
think your way out of
broken and longing
...

the wind blows
whispering directions
commonly given to a fool
with disagreement the trees
...

In the end
after an hour of painting my room
different shades of purple
I watch it dry
...

There's gotta be hope in the ashes
in the flaky corpse of nicotine
war against breathing
from the dry bleeding lungs
...