poetry critical

online poetry workshop

a talk with my five month old son

its too bad
you won't remember
these sugar-tit days.
because save for a few
momentary peaks
down the road,
its all vagina rerun
and stretchmarks after twenty-five.
and the atrophy is swift and unforgiving young man.
i'm talking dig in your heels
but your ankles snap clean the fuck off.

12 Feb 07

(define the words in this poem)

(1 user considers this poem a favorite)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


 — unknown

 — chuckles