PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

If you have nothing against the rotting of innocense

or the time thats passed

Then perhaps the ink in your well will dry and your words

that seak attention will die

Do you keep a photograph of yesterday, or acquaintances who've gone to hell for the time being

Search parties who've given up and gone home, and hold conversations of who,when,where and why

Denim junkies with Gap gang logos hope to find the new Marketing messiah in your appearance

Chorus boys who spend their time in bath houses, using back doors everywhere they go

Mother Mary may cry corn syrup, but the saint of the kettle is green with envy and jealousy

In ShantyTown, RagTag county, USA, they've found pleasure in the mistakes their fathers chose

In a handbasket, khaki kids with bottles of inflamation and premarrital bliss

Dance to a spinning ball, no records playing but they love to dance to the sound of a kiss

Video junky, honky tonk hellion, and the backwoods bohemian

read manuals in King's English

Clear as a generation's cold language, crystal words, will often sit and ask, " What is this,son, what is this"