eating the monkey's hands
you are
the president of space
hanging on a star
black like me
you move like a sonic ranger
with your mannequin presence
it isn't hard to imagine
the outcome of most situations
we are barely in heaven
but i know what you want
i know what you want
take the ashes off
the polaroid flashes
against your bionic cheeks
your smile on the paper
and the earth underneath
3 comments:
glad the monkey is eating while I get out the duster...hmmm that was my first thought ???...second thought is....why does your poetry make me stay up at night ?!! :-) thanks alot bob - ughhh..
i like this one. it rhymes
Post a Comment