Big Hood

Big Hood

A Poem by The Twin Arenas

the fewtch

In my hood my whole
head is a pupil
and in spaces
between fabric and flesh
there is periphery

Looking down the eye
Looking up
it rolls.

Everything around
here is crushed
cookie and empty
house feelings.

I think once
writing got me
out of jams
into clothes
my hood

You're somewhere

Don't park behind me
because I leave after lunch
and I'll have to ask you to move.

And you will move,
and I'll go home.

© 2020 The Twin Arenas

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writing usually can get us out of morose moods....we write ourselves out...but sometimes all the words just feel too shallow...decadent and like an empty house with no furniture...our heart becomes a home we don't want to go to, but must.
and our heart moves on without us.

Posted 1 Month Ago

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1 Review
Added on February 20, 2020
Last Updated on February 20, 2020


The Twin Arenas
The Twin Arenas

Edmonton, Canada

Lost in the twin arenas. error 003 more..

pud pud

A Poem by The Twin Arenas