Poetry

Deep Things

Searching life for some
modicum of meaning
I dug deep
discovering

desperation
and
confusion
in the throes
of passion

thrashing

clumsy

squealing

hormonal teens
in a small
back seat

surely
no good
could be
born of
these!

so I hosed them down good
sent them to their rooms
and the

abrupt
sweaty
silent
aftermath
held the
answer

at last

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s