Drunk Ballet
the night
plays backwards
and we laugh
at our feet
the stars are frozen
on the sidewalk
waiting for
your arabesque
Later
stirring
her coffee
created
a vortex -
I dived in
Something once said
listening
to Joni Mitchell
my friend says:
this is how
i imagine my
mother
would've sung
he then lights
a cigarette and
sits there
holding it
Editor's note: I'm a big fan of short poetry forms. I remember one of the joys of Exquisite Corpse was seeing the short gems by Mike Topp. It can be a deceptively difficult form. Zombie Logic Review would always like to see more like these.
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