my eyes see in:
my tears down
the inside of my cheek
someone put raw onion
in my mouth
and the snot runs up
my nose
they (We) sit
on the bottoms of branches
eating in peace
gravity hangs on fishing wire threaded by fate
and pulls the world upright
and wrong
while we eat onions
and call them apples
About the Creator
Benjamin Butz-Weidner
I've come here to tell my tales, and share my truths.
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Guilt
Guilt is a dog licking his dick behind you while you’re trying to work. It’s red wine losing its edge and cigarettes only giving you the urge to vomit. Guilt is being distracted by the world around you: the dog licking his penis, the bad wine, the cyber monday deals, and the rewards points you might get on your Amex shopping them. Guilt is denying that you believe in God despite buying tickets for Yom Kippur services in March. Guilt is giving a junkie your rent and avoiding the news when you realize you might have bankrolled his last hurrah. Guilt is thinking with your dick. Guilt is not sleeping (alone). Guilt is the privilege to lie. Guilt doesn’t go away because you write about a dog licking his dick; dogs do that every day. Guilt is the routine. Guilt is calling your mom too many times a day. Guilt is buying your girlfriend silver. Guilt tries to make you laugh. Guilt is like smoking. Guilt is the smell of dick on a dog’s breath. Guilt is pretending you’re a dog when you walk on two legs.
By Benjamin Butz-Weidner2 months ago in Poets
Even with the Lantern
Our forefathers worked meticulously in the still of the night, beneath the African sky, with extraordinary desires. In obscurity, our parents struggled for their privileges while following their dreams, involving lights as their reference points.
By VOPNU, Adomale Mondaya day ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Impressive work! Well written!