Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Alex, The G

trench coat zipped to His neck
bouncing arms and an expression of emptyness
the knackered jeans once belonged to some girl
His name was Alex, the mystic G

called the Beacon
His eyes were everywhere
His mind nowhere
couldnĀ“t decide about His next step
He was loppy
the Apache was jumping in His brain
waving his arms and vociferating horrific secrets

He killed the Apache
spilling His grey matter on the floor
His momma couldnĀ“t take no more
and the pills were swallowed
she started feeling the eletricity
the waves she never felt
to end up with her cigarette in the mixture spilled on the floor

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message