Piggly-Wiggly

Here, is my soul,
placed in a baggie.

An overflow of sadness
that
barely fits in the toilet

Makes no difference

What won’t fit,
I place in little plastic bags

When I get enough,
I fill my pockets with them
and
take them
down to the park

I toss them into
the can full of
old grocery sacks
containing dog shit

I buy bags by the hundreds
down at the Piggly- Wiggly.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under outlaw poetry, poetry, punk poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s