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
blinks
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
Atlantic.

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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Reviews

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.
j.

Posted 1 Month Ago



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

Author

The Twin Arenas
The Twin Arenas

Edmonton, Canada



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Lost in the twin arenas. error 003 more..

Writing
pud pud

A Poem by The Twin Arenas