You take the
small pleasures when
they come,
like vanishing gnats.
The black cat rolls on
the freshly vacuumed
carpet,
reaching every spot
and fiber, to satisfy
the deep need for relief.
My good friend died this
morning.
Cirrohis–his lover became a killer.
Motherfucker, I’m sick of
death.
Neon orange sadness.
Three beautiful orphans behind.
The cubbards need to
be organized,
and every rotten thing in
the fridge needs tossed away.
This gray day
needs me back in bed,
covers over my head,
and a sunrise that
deletes everything.








One hell of a write.
Go back to bed and rest.
Thank you.
Haunting piece of poetry Thomas. Dark and claustrophobic. Wonderfully executed!
Thanks, my friend.
my condolences a very well written piece this pulls at my heart my son was 37 when he died that way leaving a family behind great write ❤️
Thank you.
Powerfully penned, Thomas. This is an excellent write my friend. I relate to this one. Sorry about your friend, that sucks. Appreciate you.
Damian
thank you
Ouch’ I’m guessing we all get duff days .. but this one takes some beating .. My sincere condolences Thomas .. just be sjure to write on brother .. Neville
thanks, my friend