My Company, Will Kill You.
Some. Have dreams. About a California shore.
They fantasize about the salt water.
Cleaning their wounds.
I am paused. Atop my air mattress.
Stabbing the mainline,
For a rush of creativity.
Staring at a blank page.
Inhaling the permanent marker
And roses smell.
Wafting in through my window.
Or is it early mornings?
In my eyes
If not for the overcast,
I wouldn’t be able
To distinguish a difference.
Little red veins
Are sprawled across
The whites of my eyes.
And I think of the California shore.
And I would love to piss in it.
Then I can be carried
Inside a harlot’s infection.
I’ll be the promise
To the porn director:
It’s only temporary.”
A.j. Binash's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (My Company, Will Kill You. by A.j. Binash )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- The Fat of the Land, Ronald Wallace
- Cello, Phil Soar
- In Praise of Winter, Ronald Wallace
- Traveling, Ronald Wallace
- Snow Joke, Ronald Wallace
- The Humor of the Universe, Ronald Wallace
- Literature in the 21st Century [excerpt], Ronald Wallace
- Sustenance, Ronald Wallace
- Carcass is Served - Lincoln Park Zoo, Ima Ryma
- I Knew Better, Agar Hernandez