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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

May 16, 2025  

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because today feels random

I need poetry today,
sex and wild onions beneath
the precise blue of
breathless summer skies,
and death.

I need cold potato soup,
skinned knees and coffee
with a stranger's hand
up my denim skirt,
and beauty.

I need bruised apples,
dirty laundry and the
symphony of a million
stars gently dying,
and you.
Tracey - on June 20 2008

Pain-pleasure-stink-beauty-life-love-death. So much is conveyed here concisely, memorably. I've reread this over and over again, and I love it.


Mosquitobyte - on June 20 2008

Dang! Woman, this is superb! It certainly works for this stranger.

:D

Mos.


Anstey - on June 21 2008
This is just so very you.
Amanda Baker - on June 23 2008

Tracey...Thank you so very much. Being a woman, I am sure you understand those days where you just need to feel...something. 

 

Skeeter...Muah

 

Stephan...of course it's so very me, would you expect anything different? 


Norm - on June 23 2008
Jeez, what a poem!
Shan - on Oct. 13 2008

 I really love this, exactly what Tracey said. 

-----
Life is what happens while you wait for great things.


Life is what happens while you wait for great things.
Tracey - on Oct. 14 2008

 

Still lovin' it.
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