POP! GOES OLD IDEAS
I haven’t wrote a poem for about 4 months so this is my first attempt at it.
Paper flowers tied to aching letters, Open eyes to look like the blind.
licked and sealed in starless sewers
while suits stumble from wine to wire.
“Are we sugar lumps in lungs,” the town crier,
port and sad, bellows to buttons,
torn from suits like eyes and trotters.
All this, sung on cloud nights
by paralytic pirates at the end of their life.