Monday, May 9, 2011

The Deja Vu of A Blind Man

A poem my sister and I wrote together a few years ago. Enjoy.


The Audience Does Half the Work

(Though I Get All the Credit)

This is The Deja Vu of A Blind Man

Falling Down in a Tomb Of Secrets.

Sip life, like Wraiths within Hymns.


Your Skull is Red in

these Sketches Of Pain,

Like a double fast Ice Cream Coma.


When Tears Roll Down; Don't Drink That Water.

Me and My Big Ideas are in Love With

Humdrum and Humble Apologies.


I Choose You The Way You Are,

Ashes to Ashes, Always in the Past.


Call Me Mellow, Quiet Ones,

Everybody hates your Happy Endings.


The Size of your Sorrow is the

Closest Thing to Who You Are.


My tries bend with mirth as Java fuels the idle Earth.


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