Floyd Crenshaw

Communicable Confusion - Poem by Floyd Crenshaw

what happened?

we had this feeling
from all the calls and
attention we were
receiving that we would
be spending
the evening

when we arrive
we are treated
the mailman or
toll booth worker.

grease monkeys
to your social machines,
we repair and
openly present
our smitten smiles.

we ignore
the creeping conclusion
of our place.

a convenience store -
stocked with
and surrender.

a desperate pup-eyed slut
in the throes of
a love recession, .

take what you need.
take your fill.
motor on for more.

Comments about Communicable Confusion by Floyd Crenshaw

  • (4/14/2008 10:30:00 AM)

    I think i know what your talking about here.....dem bitchez be frontin....haha sorry friend, get it out, and give it back. Great poem as usual. (Report) Reply

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  • (4/13/2008 7:03:00 PM)

    good stuff very alienated and proud I like this and I share your contempt Nik (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 13, 2008

Poem Edited: Wednesday, June 25, 2008

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