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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Under the Rug

Hey you!
Look under the rug
Afraid?
just lift up a corner and peek
So many of us hidden here
brusquely swept away
prodded with broom handles or
gently coaxed
It's dark and dank
Even the dust bunnies
avoid us
Well, fuck 'em!
We'll party on our own
 dance like there's no tomorrow
cuz for some of us
there's not
Our own little purgatory
where we won't make nice folk
uncomfortable
It's cramped and crowded
but there's always room for more
Give us your dirty
your infected
your ugly
your violated
Walk on our heads
like we're not here
You can't even hear us
gnawing on your floorboards.

3 comments:

Brian Miller said...

where do i apply for citizenship?

gnawing at the floorboards....that is so cool

Crayotic Ramblings said...

Got room for one more bunny up under there?

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Whoa! This makes me - no, compels me! - to get out the vacuum!!!!!!! A poet can write a poem about anything and you have just proved it!