A Letter to Basquiat
Images juxtapose. Image is just a pose for those who wish to see it Impoverished young artist, paint spattered suit. Undercover bum, cardboard boxed in Central Park. Using the spoon in your mouth to...
Author: Lucas Howard
Start Smoking Now
Companions surrender ghostlike flesh Feeling Warmth Fading ember Breath Sculpted movement Exploring little cardboard minds Hard to find a heart as hardened – my bruiseless fingers reaching skyward Febrile hunger Clawing blind for air...
Dropping Tea
Poem Some students say they think I’m posh. I am nothing of the kind. I have learned to watch my lip. Breath, measured. Tongue, clipped. Pauses are well timed. My broad Luton drawl...
Letting Go
Poem Under the covers Clutching a torch with fading batteries Flickers of my past in the dark laughing back at me Each perfect picture’s a trick, it’s a tragedy I only exist as a...
Lip Service
Poem I don’t wanna be stuck in a routine, a Houdini who never escaped and suffocated over seven decades. What a way to go, eh? What a waste! I’d rather be kicked in the...
