"The Gorgeous"

some pretties

                           

The angry pseudo youth, hurling bricks and broken screams
Glaring against the wind, whiplash
angry youth, not as young anymore
can i still call you young, when i can see all of your wrinkles and grey hairs?

a state of mind, after all

the brutal woman, gorgeous in all her naked shyness
her eyes dark, hurt
olive skin, a dark black rose between her thighs
beating pearl not many others seek out

taste it, serum i want to drink every night before i fall asleep

the saddest man, alone in his room
resting legs, weak muscles
weaker heart
daughter doesn't call, is she alright?
Grey skies outside
Grey clouds in his chest

deeper sadness, a vision no more

the poet, staring blankly at a screen
blank screen, blank paper
a storm, a hurricane, erupting in the brain and the fingertips

keep going, it all turns beautiful in memory