- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Modern Crisis
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I once broke my favorite dishes
for the fun of it.
I stood silent
in my Rage Glow
and then swept up all the pieces.
Even the beautiful things have
a time for expiration-
just like seasons
but there will always be new ones.
I want to punch a hole through the Mona Lisa,
sit on my Single Sailboat sipping champagne
for no other reason than
Rejuvenation.
I am so fucking tired of
perpetuating
perfection.
The Old Times wouldn't even
know what to make of
Modern Crisis
so why the hell are we still trying
to live like they did?
- COMMENTS
