Regular Poem: nothing to say

9 Apr

i don’t even have
anything to say about it

sometimes
it’s all clawing its way out
violent and heaving
vomitting ideas and sounds
the dog of me
returning and returning
to that vomit

sometimes
the metaphors
are condensation on a glass
the similes
like a magician’s scarves
seemingly infinite

but i’m just broke and broken
pissed off and pissed on

daydreaming about destruction
and escape
fights i can win
minds i can lose
skins i can shed
towns i can skip

no specifics just blurs
through streaked mascara
and streaks of blurred lipstick
my hair leaves
as i drive away
with my top down

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