Joining the Suicide Club
We have to buy our own black leather jackets,
sharpen our words like switchblades.
Poems are dangerous things.
We shoot them up.
Our tattoos read:
beauty=truth.
We die for it.
Watch out for us. We will violate
your daughters with our villanelles. We will
turn the street wet
with our deaths,
for no one cares
or reads these poems
held at our heads.
You call our bluffs, wave back
at us from our bridges, our windows
our ovens.
We die,
exploding these poems
like seeds.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
