Sunday, April 28, 2013

Blue Canary

At 5 a.m. He Sang To Me

There's a small bird 
singing in the corner of my room.
He swears:
"Nobody loves you.
Your bed will be empty till 2023, Noon."
Go away sweet song bird,
Such an asshole you are.

Orioles & one night stands.
Song birds & sideways glances.
The naive ripe with brevity

these and a low center of gravity.
make up your modern romances.

"Your dim blue light & ink stench
will not save you from their jaws, clenched 
ball point pens, masturbatory this is your current purgatory."
Such a well spoken asshole indeed. 


I scribbled this short little piece down at 5 last night, it's kind of reminiscent of my older stuff which focused more on the rhyming bits and a little self indulgent, then again all my stuff is "a little" self indulgent... Though I don't think I can call it my "older stuff" because it was neither that long ago and I'm not a famous poet. How pretentious we are.

Godspeed & Good Afternoon,
C.B. Franz

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