I consider myself a dying art
You know if art was picked out of a dumpster
I suppose if you are my admirer
I will call you my little raccoon
I wonder how long you will find "taking the trash out" a funny joke when we go out together
Probably about as long as I find your beady little eyes admirable
YOU ARE READING
Before I Blackout
PoetryMy best work is done when I'm on the edge of blacking out, when you finally stop trying to pretend you have a grip on what runs though your mind, you should try writing with your eyes half closed and your mind wide open. This may be an on going pro...
