Luca Menin

Waste - Poem by Luca Menin

Waste at the door
Drunk of apple core,
spiting seeds of the last tree.
The hands hold the head,
resting like mat at the front steps.
The neighbours are awake
not eyes not faces
voices lost place
the body held tight.
Surrounded by walls,
like a fox in the box
Swallow the tongue
Test dry, smell spice
To reach to touch the hungry hutch
in the starving cupboard
Bubble popping my eyes close.
My head craves
water quenches fire warms
alcohol wounds.

Comments about Waste by Luca Menin

  • Gajanan Mishra (2/17/2013 1:14:00 AM)

    alcohol wounds. I like it. thanks. (Report) Reply

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  • (2/17/2013 1:08:00 AM)

    Luca Menin, superb creation, I loved every single alphabet of it, from waste you created a never dying phase, the phase of curiosity. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 17, 2013

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