Autonecropolis
Far from the warm holes
a mess of doors and
wings, wrecks of dents
and the broken lights of
lost souls,
the shitten hope
of a young man`s last skid
that led to flowers
cold on a country roadside
and the whisper
between the aluminium
begging till the battery leaks;
I did not want
To lose my body
But I was no good at life.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment