Wednesday Pop

Loops, up and down.
Slide into dreams
and the afternoon
slips like a bad song.

Zigzag, left and right.
Dive into cold waters
and the summer heat is
gone like an end time.

Circles, on and on.
Run into the lines
of a smoked marathon and
drunk are the fighters.

Pop, jam and jump.
Sucked into the world
of garbage floors where sex
talks cheaper on magazines.


About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s