Flash Fiction & Poetry
graffiti love
mister
don’t steal into my heart
like a vandal
and spray paint
your graffiti love
on the walls
don’t saunter down the steets of my brain
flashing that million dollar smile
don’t lean against my eardrum
and whistle for a taxi
don’t carelessly splash through my blood
as if it were a dirty gutter puddle
in city mid-summer
mister
don’t scribble your
graffiti love
on me
and call it art
About the author
Amateur etymologist; staunch existentialist; mediocre poet; unabashed bibliophile; Salieri of torch singers; human anachronism.
| Print article | This entry was posted by Jen Hodges on February 23, 2007 at 9:19 pm, and is filed under Uncategorized. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site. |
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Preprocessor
about 2 weeks ago - No comments
Hello World It’s me, Seventy- four Out from behind mDesk You might rec ognize me with my shoulders like this who knew i would walk out and sing, dag, yo i like it out here the wheels and the trees sun more gin please
Cran Little Dittle
about 8 months ago - No comments
You call it turkey day.
That’s nice, but
for me it’s
still all Barry
The Wind
about 8 months ago - 1 comment
I cried that day. In the pressence of the grass and sun. Yet still holding my head high. Can I have the Ol’ fore sakin’ dream? My sun pierced tears glowing before me. The saddness has never felt so pure. take it. follow the road Watching the laughter. the accordian in the breeze. Playing the
The Forbidden Pit of My Georgia Peach
about 8 months ago - 1 comment
Sorry, I’m posting like crazy this week, but new inspiration is abound caused by a certain female.
Walden Emergence
about 8 months ago - No comments
You made me
flash on Walden
that look upon
your face…
Absorption
about 9 months ago - No comments
2003-2005. Picture jealous towels who won’t stop watching your every move…
The Bedroom Abyss
about 9 months ago - No comments
Another old one from 2004/2005. Picture an evening with a bi-polar vampire lady friend!
Uprising
about 10 months ago - No comments
Rolling and twisting in the warm night It wrestles out from under my watch Scratching, swinging specific with fury and he looms Smiling that monster has no pointed teeth But he but it will reap the carrots And waking angry we’re all in the shade today
Boy
about 1 year ago - 1 comment
There is no castor oil to purge this sweet disease called you. In my stomach, steel wire, hypodermic thin, like the hair starting to poke through the blonde around your temples, filters acid to my blood. Mandragora, Amanita, Belladonna, Teonanácatl, I beseech thee. Why? All these years… A decade and a half, and I still
about 3 years ago
i like!