Deck of Cards

I ask myself

how long will this last.


At best we are nothing more than frothing

mouths on Horses.



starving dogs on balconies puking there last meal

over looking streets where people stand with there cameras.


all they gave me was a deck of cards .....

its all I had to cut off the leaches mating on my throat as they

picked and debated what part of my flesh was at its most flavorful.


wet towels are like old whores...

they both blend into and unmade bed waiting til they are dry and used

for another day.


Frank Penicaro (c)copyright 2010
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Culverhouse Avatar
January 1, 2011 at 5:49 PM
sad thoughts.....depressing!
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace