Poetry · Writing

Sitting on Bolts

the transferred and borrowed minds-

heads in the clouds

channeling our current

and it’s fluent

sittin’ on the side bein’ truant.

The almighty-


channeled the weather in bare palms- wrath

sinking ships- casualties in the thousands

the ten warnings written on a bathroom stall


shit was laughable. Borrowed mind from the bottom of a pint,

screaming torture and

something I couldn’t pronounce,

maybe not of this language or of a fathomed world

maybe not one we’re not taught

or he is just a drunk with droll hangin’ from his lip.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s