Faded faded pale blue jeans
Drape the tattered orange chair
Curled out over the keyboard
The poet just doesn’t care
Stein and vonFreyragged speek different
Leigh sins a song over the FM air
Dicing for rhymes
Our poet types debonair
Pale pale faded old man
Longs for younger hair
But this bird has flown
Why do they all stare?
The stanzas come, then fade away
Tshirt asks Okay? Okay


About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on September 28, 2014, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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