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Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
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Read books online » Poetry » Half Closed Eye Witness: by Eric Stachowiak (most popular novels of all time txt) 📖

Book online «Half Closed Eye Witness: by Eric Stachowiak (most popular novels of all time txt) 📖». Author Eric Stachowiak



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and
red velvets.

I am wearing neon shades.

I am glad to be surrounded by
people so drunk that they cannot stand;
it creates the impression
that I have abnormally great posture.

A glance at the window, curtains askew,
my friend’s comments continue to drift by my ear.


Death Metal Poppies


Free Verse



In profile:
I wore a hat of graffiti.
I sat, crouched next to a mound of concrete.

I was underneath a bridge;
it roared at each passing car.

As I sat , I got an earful of malevolences and complaints from the tollway to its custom:
Who needs you here anyway?
Coming, going,
taking the connection from Port Woodshire to the 43rd,
without even a word of
so how’s your Mother?

The bridge was inconsolable.

I, a goose without imprint,
then turned to the reservoir.
There, a turgid badger sat on his throne
underneath the bridge’s maw.

The King slept fitfully
and I wished not to awake the clump-haired monarch.
Instead, like any tourist,
I sought out the appropriate eye traps.

There was only one
and I thought regretfully,
pondering if the badger had mismanaged his territory.

I had come to a creek of
rainbowed motor oil and icy detritus;
it held an appeal like
fashion for fashion’s sake,
with colors mixed by gravity and
delivered by a hill side sluece-works.

Growing by the sides of the giant puddle
were eight foot tall death metal poppies.
With acidic blue faux-hair
and garishly green mohawks,
you could open a can of soup on their petal’s edges.
The blossoms smelt of carbonified water
and drenched wood shavings,
if it was possible for wood to to rust
in the manner that led the eye in mazes.

I left shortly after,
for it was a small country
and the conversation was lacking.

Imprint

Text: All of this is my own work; some is inspired by prompts and suggestions from the wonderful people of allpoetry.com
Publication Date: 01-24-2010

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To my parents, friends and family. If not for you I would not be who I am. I cannot thank, abhor, love, question, think or wonder more.

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