lost it

maybe, but maybe not.

okay, so never mind the fact that i'm
stuck to the cheap plastic tile like a
goldfish cracker raped by a sneaker
and left to wheeze swan songs choked with dirt clouds.

never mind that i'm just so very tired of
half-hearted rock n' roll and
half-chewed erasers and
half-flat whiskey and
half-assed blow jobs.

oh, maybe i've lost it, whatever it is;
my mojo or whatever, along with those dream clouds
that as of late have cut the strings from which they hung
above my sleeping eyes on bad nights.

oh, well.
i'll find them
again.

Author's Note

I like this one.

Reviews

[argentum lumen]

I liked this piece. It was very down to Earth and to the point.

[Kenneth The Poet]

I can see why you like this.

[JimmyFlux]

The first stanza just slays. The second one is very telling. As for the rest, I can definitely relate. Keen on this one, too.

[Canne Mills]

real flowing. could easily read as prose.

[Miss Fox]

what imagery you create, especially with that second stanza. As always, Mr. Atkinson, it is a pleasure to read your work. Do the world a favor and continue to write these incredible creations.