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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in poems

resolved

 

 

the champagne spilled over 

Rolled and seeped 

   down the stem of the rose color glass

while a   “fuck you”   seeped out 

    between my lips

As i tried to lick the overflow 

    I realized 

you    are     not    worth the effort

and   I let   you    fall 

 

     sp 

       la

          t

            t.

 

I poured out the remainder 

filled it 

        fresh     with 

   a new sparkle and 

 drank without a care 

 

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