Pieces On The Ground Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Pieces On The Ground



By fountains where golden pigeons beg
You sit like Hiroshima crying
Your dreams as dark as handcuffs
Your chains where childhood died
I love you like an eternal prison
Growth is too arduous
My self-inflicted contempt wants you
The Wind Cries Mary is on

A dozen roses delivered by a vampire
Smiling deserts of iron lovers
Hope is a city street filled with tricks
We treat one another like an AA meeting
Your mother calls from New York
You tell her you finally met someone
We are like a broken bottle of Burgundy
We fit together like shattered glass

Pieces on the ground in the alley

Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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Joseph Narusiewicz

Joseph Narusiewicz

So St Paul, Minnesota
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