Poetry Performer
You are angst poetry
played on the strings
of an untuned guitar
A smokers cough cord
that grinds like grit in a turbine
Clumsy fingers that slip
ungracefully on the flimsy stretched nylon
A coffee percolating flow
of words I do not know
A language of sophisticated agony
the core of your existence
is wretched from your gut
through the microphone
when my sense are filled with the crudity of your song,
I can feel the pain,
more than words,
you are the poetry that you perform
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