poem and a half

TeeAhr1's picture

Writer's Block #513.7

I'm really only pretending to write
actually picking fringes out of the center of my notebook
the notion occurs to me that I write
about not writing
more than anyone in the world


When I Die (working title, unfinished draft)

When I die, get loaded
get in mosh pits
get in her pants
get away with something stupid enough to get you arrested
When I die, walk the last mile
to my wake, together
Hold hands. Pass joints.
don't let them send me to the Next World in a fucking suit
don't let them lie about me
do not, under any circumstances, allow them to find the drugs
don't ever doubt that I loved you, and love you still...

Thanks to sistineslyph, whose forum topic gave me the initial inspiration for this piece