Microphone
Thu, 2 Oct 2008 at 04:04am
untitled
To you, my friend.
you writer of words.
yet somehow can't be described in a poem
is the best way to describe you.
One only has to think of
lampshades,
cigarettes,
and drinking by myself
with you by my side.
watching kick-ass
artsy films with
Burroughs being
a fucking badass.
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This reads like an inside joke, which isn't a bad thing. It feels a little bit like a window into a more intimate connection. The "drinking by myself/with you by my side" is the best part I think, because it has the most clear imagery. Probably I would understand it better if I know who the hell Burroughs is? I am not indie enough to judge this piece.
yes, inside joke, I agree. It's charming as everything you write, but kind of inaccessible, you know?