this death will be the life of me
patches in the sky
we used to call them clouds
before the bombs went off
and canopied us in a toxic shell;
the artist swapped his brush
for a brick
and threw it in tantrum
from a distance
at some cheesy idyllic canvas
and despite our decaying teeth falling out
with clumps of hair and skin
you slipped out of your negligee
a little too easy tonight
this poem of mine is also on Write Out Loud here's a comment from that poetry website about my poem Showgirl " I am a big fan... quite dark yet inspiring... disturb the beating of the heart.... keep writing."
you slipped out of your negligee a little too easy tonight enjoyed
you slipped out of your negligee a little too easy tonight girls love it guys like you and us even oldies enjpy it like it wait for ittttttttttt good imagery poetttttttttttttttttt
thanks for reading originally it was post war crisis but by calling it Showgirl and hinting her right at the end completely changed the poem and gave it the interest and boost I was looking for.
absolutely … and primeval urge thanks for taking the time to comment
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
With this poem I wanted to capture the juxtaposition of apocalyptic ramming up against love and that 'show must go on' feel with repopulation. I love clashing juxtaposition in poetry, being derailed from one line to another.