How history might count down

Oh bitterness. A lecture to the nose, the tongue.
Oh hell. My every skin cell, rupturing to preach,
never learned the poetry of skidding through
day one to day’s end. Oh hell, the capacity of
men to talk to their own forehead hardly taught
the rare fact of their own being where their own head
tried to steep down, cure a little, turn to brown.
Old men were born young and thought little of it.


~ by Jeremy on June 28, 2012.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: