Litkicks Message Board Archive

angel plummage

Posted to Poetry




gasoline and testosterone
that's the smell of this parking lot

a jet passes overhead
roaring over the fragments of conservation

sometimes you catch a look in their eyes
like they're willing themselves onboard that plane

why wouldn't ya?

I guess later when we're all
sweltering in our broke down apartments
and we've just scored with our lover
or some magazine
we'll all be back in our real lives
getting up for a piss and
texting some friends
passing a cone-full of escape around a table

bird feathers on the pavement
you can think whatever you like
me, I know it's angel plummage.