vibrant radiator harmony,
getting to his ears
before the daylight
ripped open his eyes,
and alphabet soup thoughts
swilled from side to side
in the bowl that is his skull,
twnty seven permutations
of how the day
would end up being,
rolling a cigarette,
strips of paper cut from
an old shelley poetry book
as if inhaling the words
would give creedence to his own,
that languished on pages
scattered like a womans dirty
underwear across the floor,
that masterpiece so often
rewritten not compiled,
new words scraped away the old
confidence from caffeine
lifted him to another level,
sun filled evey corner
a morning bronze age
renaissance to the heart,
sat up scratching legs
it would be complete

Universal Studios Lot, Instagram by sessepien

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Comments
  1. “as if inhaling the words
    would give creedence to his own,
    that languished on pages
    scattered like a womans dirty
    underwear across the floor,”

    Loved the imagery in your words. Yeah, I can picture a poet or writer living in such a place, writing away and waiting to make his fortune. Nice take on the prompt!

  2. Love this bit:
    strips of paper cut from
    an old shelley poetry book
    as if inhaling the words
    would give creedence to his own

    🙂

  3. Karen S says:

    Wow, quite the NYC picture drifting through my mind. Delicious Magpie.

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