Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.137.142.253

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Jones
Day
Unwelcome sun
Wait
Wait
Wait

“Hey Claire, see if that old queen next door’s got anything.”
“I don’t think she’s up yet.”
“I will give five bucks for a rinse.”
Wait
Wait in a parking lot
Wait 

A man at the hotel
Nodding off
Hugging himself
Ignoring 
Everyone in the building
On the street

I hate him 
Why do I hate him
I hate him
I hope he falls down those 

Arrival
	Buzzer
		Click
			Door
				Water
					Melt
						Cotton
							Slam

Maybe 3 minutes and I don’t think I can get there
I can’t get well
7 balloons
Kids birthday party, present but not there 
And oxy
           Lighter
                    Desk
Crunch                                                                                      crunch crunch
            sniff 

The rocket launches off the pad, and it looks like it will get beyond the point it was last time it was there, and just at that moment, when you think you will get there...that you will get into that space you were at the first time, gravity pulls you back down to the earth. Not where you were before the launch, but further, you fall so much it pulls you into the floor. So much, you look up at the back of the floor. 

I hate that old man because he shows me it’s possible. It’s possible to not die young, and to live long enough in that hopeless dance to really be old and alone and still want to get high. Still try to get there, but not. I hated him.

Tired
I give
Can’t do it no more

Time
Veins scream
Blood craves
But it’s okay

Ellipses
	.
		.
			.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required