dear Brazil,
yesterday,
we walked past the Author's Club,
beside the Brazilian embassy,
and I thought to myself,
what a peculiar idea.
writers, by nature,
are insane.
were you to gather enough of them,
you'd reach critical mass.
an asylum of creators,
a blender of vicious egos,
sharp quills and sharper tongues:
a melting pot of radioactive willpower and stories.
my most most heartfelt condolences go to out you, Brazil.
glue several copies of '50 Shades of Grey',
onto your front door,
to stave off the rowdy ones.
YOU ARE READING
n.i.m.b.u.s.
Poetrywords that pour from the veins of the sky. a collection of joyous, soul-crushing melodies, set to the tune of the desert-seaside breeze. //#539 in Poetry [2016.07.10]
