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Below is the poem entitled IA which was written by poet Patrick Wakefield. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Pleasantly i was presently an obese mote laughing in the chattering
orifice of this emerald ciTy amongst the hollow discharged oblong
fingers vomited of the silky concrete mounds dangerously apathetic
the fat grunt of youth grand and evilly blanketing the hard arteries speaking
slowly feet. about the whim of the hard towers skirting angelic sluts lilt
and milk there breasts of sexual mucous to drag masculine colours to their
heed. how drunk they were of lacy cotton fringes and damp skin collecting
dew drops hard lovely thighs flatulently billowing from their savage femurs

the cool common sky is generally heavy with gray makeup and tears softly
epic wails of wet teeth. they bite and nibble the brim of my umbrella. and moaning
bestial capricious men proffer and spit elocutions electricly open hands
palming digital cracking whispering clouds of text. rapid eyelids turgid was grinning
specifically at I "how about a light" "sorry I don't smoke"

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