Random Stabs At Poetry

Accidental stuff from the dusty corners of the cloud storage attic.

So, uhhh, I don’t do poetry—as in read or write—I just don’t know how to enjoy it. Yet, in some strange fit back in 2019, I opened a document, dumped words straight outa my head, and forgot all about it until today, when I stumbled upon it while doing another compulsive reorganization of my cloud clutter.

I’m calling it “poetry”, even though I fully acknowledge that the stuff does not fit into any actual form, genre, ruleset, or any other identifiable set of characteristics. It’s just a forgotten byproduct of a distilled stream from subconscious.

Take it with a few drops of hot sauce.

Strangers
Post-coital calm
Failed to descend
Choked
By emergency to flee

Never again
I lied
I loathed it
I won’t do it again
I lied

Knack for dramatics
Step right up
Don’t fear
The curtain shades
Life’s deathly stare

Fuck this shit
It’s time
But
Have a life
Before you go

Ode to coffee
Coffee

Accidental symbiosis
Momentary lapse of
Happiness abruptly
Caused by
Sip of IPA and
Abstract art on
Stranger’s t-shirt

Impulse
Sudden urge to
Understand if
It’s too late for
Madness