Barlot ... Poems
Rabies In My Palm
Ah the moonlit melodies
And cliche connections of words
It's murder to think in such fancy ink
But never to record...
So, I sailed all seven of the seas
And rolled my pants above my knees
If you please...I believe there's a term-
Pirate...(one day I'll learn) .
For now I am just wrinkling
The twinkling stars call my number
But the slumber of sleep keeps it's grasp on me.
The medication and swollen joints weigh down
The burden of gravity is unwillingly found.
Alas! One could only guess my words 'fore now
They all wonder how my eleventh finger ...
Sleeping On A Tablecloth
I took a break from the slavery of words
But when I returned, I found my style was nothing as it had been before
'What could have changed? ' I asked in distress.
My best response proved to be of no aid-
As it involved the lack of rainy days-
Which seem to be in abundance.
I then made a list of from then to now
Hoping to find out how...ridiculously free I've become:
The lack of fun being number one