Years Months Days
so i remain myself
despite you
being a little bitch
about the state of us
our bodies have too many holes
so we're kinda tubes
for sad existence
some nights
your toes taste like mushrooms
and laughter
works better than lexapro
in bed
memory foam can't remember
who was wronged
WAFFLE HOUSE
under golden glow
of waffle house sign
about to text
sex dreams
where we make out
in lake radnor
cold water
so nipples are erect
this just fantasy
no pressure
our lives one poem
smothered
covered
hashbrowns
good as fuck
and i think of her
as ernaux
without inhibition
watching eyes wide shut
on my phone
like pornography
i do not touch myself yet
Driving Drunk
it often felt
like hitting the jackpot
as getting home safe
a few thousand dollars
my nights my own again
when nothing killed me
but i wasn't alive
Cletus Crow is mostly a poet. His two collections are available from Pig Roast Publishing.
High Horse 