Sheets & reams of the nonsensical Literary blood lost in the shadow of ink The lifeforce of a simmering soul Marginal hearts writing love against the kitchen sink
Leaving behind the caricature of an artist Contributions to society felt in these empty sheets Fingersmudges marking pages not so white Starkly exposed with revolutionary words in the streets
Traces of hereditary ideals eroding away Igniting pages shall still be a stilted sin Yet we rise again from our desert floor Eternally grateful our finite letters aren’t porcelain
The carcasses of inspiration
Wine glasses with Burgundy residue
Speaking to late nights & early mornings
Scribbles in the margin on the follow through
Feeling parched as I wake
Noticing your lipstick stains
Upon the rim of the glass
Reminding me of the dreams that remain
Bleary eyed, drinking the coffee grounds
Searching for a fate within the dregs
Fumbling over these typewriter keys
Lightheaded when I see your naked legs
Your smile is a distraction
But you pop a button & then one more
I’m at your complete mercy
Once the nightgown hits the floor
Transparent dresses hanging in the mud room Saran-Wrapped for mild protection Eyes closed to foreign tales Tempered thoughts of stifled affection
Painted prose with regurgitated eyes Our dreams left choking on the floor Scribbling beliefs with thick gouges Manufactured truth with cries of Nevermore
Redundant weight of classical heroes Forcing us into bastardized Groupthink Yet my mind still wanders to her opaque passion Chasing her dragon with endless ink
Only loyal to the dead Keeping faith with those gone before Thoughts hard to shake loose My left foot dragging on the floor What did I drink last night Her voice pounding in my head Regret fills me from within I know I should have drank water instead
Captain Q 