the poetry knook, the poetry of stephen m. james

Its creators–us

I barely know tonight this guy
that stupidity could only buy
stay up, tire my inhibitions
till the pants
drop the emotions
penetrate the head
of a lifeless body flailing on the bed?
don’t make it, I unmade it, I’ll lie in it,
let the fluids flow, the chemicals collide
into the creature we love as much as we hate its creators.

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© 1993-2024 by Stephen M. James.