Poetry and I are dead
together
no longer sorrowful brothers
nor joyous lovers
Poetry, you’ve burned me out
accentuating feeling, accelerating whimsy
ultimately murdering emotion
Poetry, without the fear and anxiety I provide
along with your bleak hope and stark observations holding slivers of fleeting hidden happiness…
well, we’re both dead
I’ve buried you
cremated my soul
“Fuck the essence of living” I say
Poetry, I’m dead
Poetry, you’re dead
She sneezed, her eyes lit up and the colors of ink stained skin turned
and what hadn’t been right for years
had been right this time
Damn you
the dirt disturbed
the fire ignited
and Poetry said, as we lay there
living
“you cannot escape thee.”
Mike Zone is the author of A Farewell to Big Ideas, Void Beneath the Skin, Better than the Movie: 4 Screenplays and Fellow Passengers: Public Transit Poetry, Meditations and Musings. A contributing poet to Mad Swirl and contributing writer to the graphic novel series American Anti-hero by Alien Buddha Press. His poetry and stories have appeared in: Horror Sleaze Trash, The Daily Dope Fiend, Outlaw Poetry, The Rye Whiskey Review, Synchronized Chaos and Triadæ Magazine.
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