Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Poem 3: (mother)

i don't dream
of my mom
as much
as i did

Can see her
Can hear her
a part of me

Will she come
when i need
her to?

No Bukowski can i
Can i become

(i hate sophomoric and trite write trash like that above ..…
Crap like that, please forgive me, Momus, minor goddess of irony--and screw you antiquity, for in my eyes see Momus as a female she be, catty as hell but beauteous--for writing like that, but that's how i feel @ this 5 am.)

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