I master write

I hide the poems I write in sock drawers
under
cum socks                     and drugs
on hotel room walls
behind paintings, under rugs
Like DNA in the sheets in the sink and the tub
I wrote a thesis on napkins left at the bar and the club

I have read what was said
by my idols all dead
they passed on
left words like Jawn
that changed my life with one thread

Have my words been read would I even care?
I imagine the Spanish maid there
finding notes
that I wrote
stands crying in the hall
but she cant read this
its in English
thoughts dropped they fall

so someone asked me
cut down this old tree
shed the bark show the rings
show its age and dark things
stop throwing away
words you say
like spilled semen you tossed
all those words that were lost
washed away down the drain
just one seed could have changed
born a human a writer a lonely old maid

so I gave it a go
gripping my pen til it explodes
spilling ink into prose
my eyes pull to the back of my head
the words building up I picture her spread
til the cap pops off ink blots shoot like lead
the new black Rorschach that cannot be read

and more regret than relief
as I drift off to sleep
with my pen in my hand
softening from stone to sand

 

 

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