Pity-Poetry

Pity-Poetry

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Aces Always Guilt-Black

Dark dresses held above 
Wine-splattered 
Feet 

Kings and queens
Strutting around their 
Guillotines 
With clad-iron shackles 

Oops

They slip
Chains around the nobles' knees
As heads tumble 
Off the white

And every joker is laughing 
Because in solitaire
We play ourselves 
With an ace up our sleeve

Temporary Last Time

It looks like urine

And it truly does 
With its foamy gold

Yet it smells like water and
Tastes like mango tea
Which coincidentally,
It is

I never return the 
Coin of conversation
To the fizzing 
Vibrating 
Pond

Can we just have 
A normal talk without
Being angry?

Says the boy with 
IED issues 
And a pick-pocket heart

I speak for myself;
For myself in being pleasantly 
Gloomy without a bottle of ink
(Good for writing, good for
Staining things)

You can't argue with someone
Who's auto-switch-assumption 
Is that the people are 
Water drops of fire
Waiting to climb into your skin

So he walks out like the last
And the last before the last
For a temporary
Last time