Black as this marker
Black as this marker I engrave this with, the smell of pungent marker ink fails to describe the amount of distance i fall short in praising my heavenly father. why? i fell like a helpless romantic pursuing a virgin daughter of a wealthy monarch. What proves you to me every day? the professor screams you don’t exist. i sink and shy away from any conversation. this monster of intellect displays a dogma of academia that i am sure will not die before my resurrection.
Author Note: i was on a college campus thinking about God
About the author
I live with my wife, an artist, in Indianapolis. Besides poetry, I like to take photographs, read books, travel overseas, and listen to news/political podcasts, college lectures and classic literature. You can read about my approach to poetry on my poetics page. To stay in touch, follow me on Twitter or connect on a variety of other social networks.
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