Litkicks Message Board Archive

For Intellectuals

Posted to Poetry

Amidst the smoke they sit,
tolerating the message
floating over the heads
of drinkers, intellectuals
and worthless junks,
in their own right
the saviours of creation,
containing the passionate smoke
that others blow out,
cancer the fear

The haze thickens,
all eyes, faceless,
the wooden chair moans
as the stereotype seats itself
and poors the ale,
encapturing the pale light
into its yellow body
and foamy head

The rooftop seperates
sky from location,
and the roar outside remains
unnoticed, unaffecting
the settled hearts,
wild as they were, tamed
by the narcotic darts

Spreading the pages
through the foggy room
into the clear-cut hall,
a drum beats me outside
while the shouting echoes
through the dark