I guess poems are on the fucking menu for this site now. I thought I'd serve my own up, since its been a half year and I haven't contributed any words to this vacuum. This one is dedicated to Carol, the egotistical demon who has possessed the body of a troubled hermit.
Le Poemsicle Enfleurer
I am the top corner of a room
Or rather
The back wall, side wall and ceiling
Running out of room
The resting place of a helium balloon
Before it shrivels up and is technically considered dead
And so long as you're below me
I'll remain just a foot above your head
A perpendicular jab in all three dimensions
A knock out blow to anyone trying to break my prison like restrictions
Not even Harry Houdini could escape this joint
Three planes that have crashed at the same point
The end of the line
Lid on your jar
Muzzle on your mouth
I'm the top corner of the room
And no-ones aloud the fuck out
.
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