3h

this is the nook
some of the words here
are pleasing
prostitutes

they are all well dressed
for the occasion
of loneliness
but they know how to give
the best of
what is here

we toast for thoughts
we murmur the metaphors
all products of
our drunkenness
we shake hands with the
hands of ideas that
we know for the first
time
exist

the dancers are naked
we watch and gaze
we salivate
as they paginate

this is a soft bound world
cheap and
papery

dusts abound because it
cannot be read
the spiders make their homes here
weaving lies....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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