May 19, 2009

The Ruins.

by William Pauley III

My cigar smoke breath whispers no more
Steadily I twist and bend
Perfecting my bullshit design
And yours
Since you gave up years ago.

These teeth do not construct smiles
These teeth bite into meat
into flesh
and tear from the bone.
Your tears only waste paper
Incoherently, you scribble down thoughts.

We're just a blur, you and I
a flash of light fading before the eyes of millions
and somehow we still manage
to have a good day
now and then...

but we're losing.


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