Sunday, July 29, 2007

sir, you must speak into the microphone.

Trophy Scar City:
I am the rat behind the dumpsters you will never know about
a politician's smile
I etched the maps of hell on my skin so I won't be so lost when I return
I compose suicide notes and send them to myself while driving in the rain

Yes, broken record man broke all the records!
We are live via flesh satellite.
Go on about your business, and so will we.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

You are a brilliant poet. Keep writing! It's important.