Movies
Hauling gravel.
A bath filled with seaweed.
Burbles near the stars.
While seeking.
Mental illness is one.
Grappling hooks turned inwards.
Very grave like a bowl of coffee grounds.
Smells ground.
As I grab a speech bubble which can translate anything.
It doesn’t pop.
All I say is-
Gloop.
And the mental illness stoops lower.
It’s in second place, while I’m in third, and guess what? My least favorite movie is first.
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.