Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Parking Lot

More emo for one and all


Voiceless tatters of paper, bits
Of confettied leaves vortext
Across the grim (picture of our future)
Parking lot. Slight mist of dust raised
Brown mixing shattered underfoot drought
Dry grass flowering. Hot - It shall not
Rain, the wind from northwest bays.
My heart is empty. Our lives are empty
Alien. No more, no more, evermore.

Futile.
Ugly and futile is this world.

She sighing gulfed away the ice
Melted gin and tonic one desperate
After drunkenness veil of anonymity.

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Vomitoria