MY CELLS SIMPLY PREFER THE ART OF NO WAR by Rob Plath

i’ve handed each of my demons a paintbrush

i’ve offered my suicide a bouquet of bok choy

i’ve poured cups of chamomile for bad memories

i’ve unlaced death’s combat boots & given it a stack of books

i’ve vacuumed up the debilitating dust

i’ve exchanged ashtrays for flowerpots

i’ve torn up my bukowski jacket for cleaning rags

look, i’m drinking a bottle of cool water

tho you’d rather me be lobbing malotov cocktails at the ceiling

a pathetic cliché dancing in my own flames

2 comments:

Warhol1968 said...

I launched right into the words without a glance at the title or author. Halfway through, I thought, "Damn good stuff." Then I saw Rob's name and it all made sense.

Warhol1968 said...

Damn fine work, Rob.

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Black-Listed Magazine is an online literary magazine. We publish on a rolling basis: weekly, daily, sometimes hourly. Send submissions here: blacklistedmagazine@hotmail.com