Poem Three Titled Poem Three

by

Adam Gosha

(Get this one in while it's still the
twentieth). I've become excited
with the fact that I've not left myself
absent of a finger. That I've
not broken myself, aged myself in sport.
May eleventh was a calender's mistake. Now,
one hundred and thirty four days later, I've
survived another half a year. Physically fine,
mentally dying,
completing a dead poem, lighting
another cigarette.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at dreams
by: Angel
from: Chicago, IL, US

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