Rookie (Chicago, Illinois)

A Hollow Wake: - Poem by MARINA GIPPS

An aftermath of sorts
when nothing more can be said.
I’m a disembodied lyricist with stale cigarettes.

I cry at my own readings.
Signs signs everywhere there are signs,
says the marshmallow roasting connoisseur,
brandishing the fire with his long stick,

Remembering this melancholy of a place
that made me mutilate myself, always leading to
a move anywhere…away from this soil
better dose of guilt than the good book.

And why do they call it the good book
when so many people swear over it?

I only read half way.
Sullenly disjointed with my brain to pen.
I closed my eyes for a long time
as lashes no longer row back tears.

Comments about A Hollow Wake: by MARINA GIPPS

  • (7/20/2007 8:23:00 PM)

    Hm. I really enjoy this. It really reminds me of a friend of mine. This poem is so very different from the ones I have been reading all day.10 from AT.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 22, 2011

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