a poem by Puma Perl (1 of 2)

candy hearts poisoned by red ink and dreams

I wanted a drink so I wrote a poem
the poem said fuck off and get drunk

I don't want to hear it the hand told the brain
twenty-two years slit their wrists on a glass

words lie as much as men that I've known
I once heard the truth, and slept for five days

woke up not sure if I'd been murdered or fucked
my poems are dead and I can't find my shoes

dreams ride waves in saddles
steer ships on white sand

books stand on my shelves
they stare into space,
depressed as my father
lost as my shoes

© by Puma Perl
 
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #10 ~ July 2010    next poem