poetry isn't everyone's
for, poetry isn't usual
not even for the ones who could play words at will
chapped hands rinsed in bad blood
a thousand wars waged at the length of a mirror
teeth stained ugly, gnawing through the hollowing spine
soiled nails cutting through clenched jaws and clamouring ribs
the entirety of a Renaissance honed; skin revolting bones
baring it all by the typewriter
that isn't just another everyday
poetry is privilege
for, poetry isn't usual
not even for the ones who could play words at will
chapped hands rinsed in bad blood
a thousand wars waged at the length of a mirror
teeth stained ugly, gnawing through the hollowing spine
soiled nails cutting through clenched jaws and clamouring ribs
the entirety of a Renaissance honed; skin revolting bones
baring it all by the typewriter
that isn't just another everyday
poetry is privilege
No comments:
Post a Comment