Charles Dawes Poems

nobody cares about your
creativity. all who do
however,
are living well.
...

o, hunger.
why do you hate me?
or is this love that I feel,
wriggling like a snake with no legs?
...

you, sir,
need to stop.
the dirt is piling up
next to your damp hole.
...

she woke up with
the taste of stale bread
this morning.
her green curtains look
...

havent heard anything.
i continue to
think
that i
...

time slows as
we hold hands.
two halves of shell,
with love shut inside.
...

a new fly stopped
by my window.
'hello little one,
how are your tiny
...

love does weird
things to
you.
sleep becomes
...