Sunday, April 10, 2016

A Thousand Poems

A book full of moth eaten pages

Scribbled words and pictures

Doodled infinities
Trapped in dead trees

Took one thousand poems
To reach here
Middle of nowhere

Bathed in the fear
Of tomorrow
Words broken
Rhymes misshapen
An inkblot

A tattoo
Scrunched into my skin
Drawn in darkness
By a blind tattoo artist
With a boxing glove on his fist
I've got my nose in the book
Breathing in the poems
This bad cocaine

It's coursing
Through my veins
And I like it
I like it so much
It gets me high
So should I give
A fuck?
Or keep pushing
My luck
Waiting for it
To push back
All the fucking way

Two things, find the Discworld reference and the reason why this poem is written like this.
More, soon. 

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