skip to main | skip to sidebar

Profane Slang 2

Poetry I've written. Most of it doesn't rhyme. Sorry.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

a bad day
we can hear it in the deepness of trucks running alongside the river

feeling lighter
with blood pooling in the fingers and toes
we lean back in rooms of dissipated shadows
colors of taupe, mauve, celadon
colors of old women

breathing carefully
looking upward
we know everything
and we are nothing
Posted by Colleen at 12:44 AM

No comments:

Post a Comment

Newer Post Older Post Home
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Blog Archive

  • ►  2014 (2)
    • ►  November (1)
    • ►  May (1)
  • ►  2013 (2)
    • ►  December (1)
    • ►  January (1)
  • ►  2012 (3)
    • ►  April (1)
    • ►  March (1)
    • ►  February (1)
  • ►  2011 (6)
    • ►  December (3)
    • ►  November (1)
    • ►  August (2)
  • ►  2010 (22)
    • ►  December (2)
    • ►  November (2)
    • ►  October (1)
    • ►  September (1)
    • ►  August (2)
    • ►  June (2)
    • ►  May (2)
    • ►  April (1)
    • ►  March (3)
    • ►  February (5)
    • ►  January (1)
  • ▼  2009 (23)
    • ►  December (5)
    • ►  August (1)
    • ►  July (1)
    • ►  April (1)
    • ►  February (2)
    • ▼  January (13)
      • night
      • i am haunted by the eternal ghosts of this cityand...
      • masses in the distancepumping their white smoke in...
      • d
      • a bad daywe can hear it in the deepness of trucks ...
      • we met between junkyardsgraveyardsgreasy dinerswe ...
      • questions for my family
      • we were born in dirt fieldsin blinding sunaluminum...
      • mary
      • 2
      • out for a night
      • distance/dissonance
      • mothers + sons
  • Cork Sucker
  • Profane Slang