We met at a bar in Birmingham on a night When booze baptized you And the world lost its shape: New names New existence New world There’s a world in every bottle of beer And you had twelve bottles before my arrival. Twelve worlds in one head is death in disguise. Satan’s kingdom has no throne for drunken martyrs. You extended your hand And said your name, Burner, or Something that sounded like the name of a cigarette: High deaths Low deaths High births Low births Those words escaped your lips like your cigarette smokes As what your name meant at that moment; You were birth and death. You were everywhere, but nowhere. I smiled, nodded, but didn’t say my name Nor shake hands with you. My eyes were two doves, you said.
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
1/16/2021 7:29:34 PM # 1.0.0.396