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Friday, February 5, 2016

portable romance



Portable romance
Aristotle sits in judgement
Drive by stare down
Close door
Lock in a room mirrors
One wall of windows
Overlooking roof tops and exhaust fans
Motivational mosh pit want to bees
When door closes
You’re stuck in a room
Window too small to crawl through
Ripping scar tissue on every move
Lights dim
The movie doesn’t start
Just another portable romance
Aristotle stares you down
Philosophy doesn’t matter to me
As if a dead man has a voice
Insatiable hunger
Empty clich├ęs
Words tossed about
Yes means no
Maybe never
Smoke screens and reality

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