POETRY: Tom Pescatore – OXY

Oxy

frame by frame

your life escapes me

little white pill

many mashed words in a
mixer like mom’s 1950
powder blue or green
whatever my mind
sticks to whatever
memory pops out

whatever color smells right

like flour
wisps in sunlit circles
and by the time I write this
I am 30 years old
confined to my bed

in pain

high

higher still

too weak to resist the next four hours.

 

Visit Tom’s blog.

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