Into the decayed mouth
Of yet another corpse
Covered in rags.
Fills with the blood
Of Gods at the feet
Of the altar
The moose lodge
That your father
Attends on a regular basis.
Violins (albert sir pic)
The sound of slow violin makes me weep
But the sound of your voice carries me through fires
untamed as the outside world invites me to play
“Should I stay or should I go?”
The uneven mess that is my hair
says come closer, the empty glass
of coffee on my computer desk
yells at me, “Have another cup!”
The Earth is screaming at me, “Don’t waste!”
Divinity in my ears, saying to be a better person.
Narcissistic thoughts pop up and drag me through the snow,
surrounding me makes me humble.
Dream – It’s not illegal
The smell of
placed in olfactories
to take a peek
but never enter
When will the sun
explode, who is
you would be jealous of.
Adam levon Brown is a poet and author residing in Eugene, Oregon, United States.He enjoys the outdoors, photography, and cats. He has been published several places Including Section 8 magazine, Writing Raw, and The Bitchin’ Kitsch.