The idea here is that I will post bits of personal literature and subject them to the harsh criticisms of the online community. That being said, I welcome any, preferably constructive, criticisms. After all, the finest wines are all made from stepped on grapes. So be cruel if need be; these are all living documents which I hope to make better with age.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Tatooed Mom

I'm hard pressed for material indeed if I'm putting this to the public eye! A few short stories are plodding towards completion, but in the mean time here is a bit of ''polaroid poetry'' That was scribbled into a 4 1/2 x 3 1/4 composition book while at Tattooed Mom for debriefing following the Broadset meeting at The Wooden Shoe. Yes, I was upset I couldn't share a plate or two of Falafel, but still, good times.

Lollipops in ashtrays.
Tagged walls.
Punk rock sounds.
Textured furniture.
Hole in wall, filled with beer cans.
Dimmed lights and white noise.
Bumper cars.
Pabst tall boys, 1$.
Junk sculptures in alleyway windows.
Tops on tables, leap frogs.
Lots of clocks.
V-neck white tee, stares and leaves
(must have seen the time)
Felafels came as wraps, not appetizers.

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