powder

bohemian poet

If you touch me
with your skeletal fingers
I have no choice
but to be
bones.

If you choose
to be this high
I have no alternative
but to be
mechanical.

Now that I’m
your last
beer
in your bohemian
life
will you
marry the cosmos?

How can
I
negate
the feeling
of being
the spark
that fulminates
the entire
worthless world?

3 thoughts on “powder

  1. the first stanza from this poem carries the whole meaning. when a powder sparks another revolution of this seemingly worthless existence. can revolution change the world in its spin for a new order? where worthlessness becomes a foreign word only belonging to the archaic?

  2. the emphasis on “seemingly” is very important. This is not just a matter of suicidal deliberations, but of unmasking the world.

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