Dry responses to dry
Poetry, red plastic cups litter the
mastermind (lost in photo lenses
and dead leaves) we need to stop
Stealing lines from our favorite
Songs and recall the originality
Of us all, or partly to blame

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We have ripped ourselves from
The same canvas and ended up
right side down, with broken fingers
And endless inspiration (give me a poet’s tragedy
thus you have comedy) everyone’s
A writer now.

Drunk off of red plastic lovely (we know it
can't be the water)

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A.A. Cruelty is the new beauty (i am a compulsive something)