Tin Cans

I strike—

thick.

Tin cans in a lightning bolt

A distant cadence

but a little better

Little bit bloodied

Definitely wetter

A ten-thousand watt grin

I plant my feet

and call out the passes

You bring the wine

I’ve got the glasses

In fact I might just

maybe might not

Need you after all

Now that’s original sin.

-M.

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About M.

Roman. Vampire.
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4 Responses to Tin Cans

  1. Kavita says:

    Oooohhh.. how needs and wants change!
    An awesome read! Loved the flow of the poem..

  2. Cassiopeia Rises says:

    Great poem M. All blood and gore with a hint of glee.I like the way you think.Wonderful!

    Melanie

  3. deadpoet88 says:

    Great poem, and very interestingly written. Loved the buildup to the last line. Good work!

  4. Ouch! Raw and hot.

    M. This is deep enough to drown in. Well written, Sir.

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