Sometimes I write Poetry

This mess
is forsaken
Alabama is a state I've never seen
stab wound one I've never known
And the height of my non-experience frightens me
Like a lion instead of a hermit
I determine to fight
in a camisole turned inside out accidentally.

.............................................
My nails are red the sky is blue sugar is sweet
and gives you cavities
such that you have to make an appointment with the dentist
your tooth aches and your bed is empty
love is asleep inside a hungry belly
and insatiable eyes.
.............................................
The cup runneth o'er
with fountainous pens
piles of paper and shifts of notes
scratched helplessly on aluminum foil
this place is awash with helpless mess
scratched out bleached pumpkins and seeds unfit for eating
old abandoned and mildewing, what IS this place?
...........................................
a dewy delight
a change of perspective
socks with crap stuck to the bottom of them
i hate that.