Creative Writing, OldVenue

Creative Writing: Michael Caine

Michael Caine’s turtle neck of lust
presses itself tentatively against the damp screen
rock and roll
I cock back the gun
getting fucked has never been so fun
poignant as a dog-eared page
e e cummings, no doubt,
and my hands move small
the dimensions playing musical chairs
my body fumbles
4 walls, why would you want more?
measuring time against
the proportions of your hair
sentences seep through canines
build up cavities
champagne gas, bursts
I have a moment, we reconvene
the air, no longer our enemy
fingers dive into the keys
open my mind
like a Woody Allen sneeze

24/02/2015

About Author

ninaward



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