Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Today's Bad Poetry Hour


Musky thighs
murmured sighs
the moon is waxing
try relaxing
inside this burning eye.

You cannot lie
your mouth wont grin
your body's sky
teems in sin.
You always seek
the darkness in the weak

and find the hollow
of your temples filled with sorrow.


Anger is an art
years in the making.
I am breeding bullets
giving birth to knives.
Daylight breaking.

Taking you apart.

Anger is an art.
Everybody learn to dance.
I am honed to edges,
knowing how to kill -
a lifetime's chance.

Slit getting smart.