by Johnny Dawson

Created on: January 12, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

"Poverty"

The sky is a landfill;
A morning thief,
And her eyes are dirt tucked between the sheets.
In the event that we meet once more,
our stolen youth's regained consciousness,
and fierce summer hearts melt.

Now swordfish pierce the planks
as I stare towards a blue apathy
and regret seems so forced and familiar,
holding one ear to the sea,
one to the sky
the requiem will begin in her deep grey eyes

poverty is a landfill
and she was a thief
her body still hidden, tucked between the sheets
still i long to see her
even through the shutter
as I lose myself through the window pane

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