April 26, 2010

NaPoWriMo #26

Cigarettes

Your radio refuses to pick up
signals, it fades into
the air like a cigarette

from one of the empty
Marlboro boxes in the corner
you're too scared to touch.

But inside you are full.
You don't hit the dust
until revolution twenty-one,

after you let go.
You don't burn blue,
you're open like tide on the shore.

7 comments:

Julia said...

mmm. Probably my favorite yet.

Anonymous said...

more than just a puff.... thought it was full of tidy little tidbits of emotion... glad to have stopped by nightlight no 5

Anonymous said...

Wow. I dig it. Has a lovely rhythm to it. :)

Erin said...

I'm with Inkgirl--this is my favorite of your NaPoWriMos so far.

To The Wolves! said...

I've spent so many hours in libraries looking for poetry like yours. Bukowski, Mojgani, Wakefield. And now you. Thank you for this

a fellow humanoid said...

i really like ur poetry! ur a really good writer

a fellow humanoid said...

i really like ur poetry! ur a really good writer