i saw her in the eye of a storm and chose the wall

1/12/18 2:01am

What the fuck is there to do
On a warm day in January
There are no birds
The grass is all mire
Compounding storms leave scumfuck dunes on the street

And we revel
In beautiful weather
Eyes of the storm in 12 hour spurts
I can drink
And smoke until oblivion
Blood sweat and tears through speakers and eye sockets

Then only hours later there is everything to do
Multiple units at rest suddenly alerted
Vermintide comes in a creeping fog
Dormice flighting and breaking paradise

At least when the world seems British
Dirtshit scumfuck snowdunes extinguish
For lake effect sound deadening licorice

  • Author: Big Swifty (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 12th, 2018 14:58
  • Comment from author about the poem: 18+ because cursing got the best of this one
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views:


  • El_Pretzadente

    Great imagery, I think the swearing makes it.
    Now I know what to call those "scumfuck dunes" Thank you.

    • Abora

      Appreciate it my man

    To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.