22 January 2009 - 19:28“The room looks like a war zone”
i am discussing clustered hardware infrastructure at my new startup. there is poetry in everything, even in replicated servers with solid state drives… but this poem is about something else.
The room looks like a war zone
dusty carpet strewn
paper tissues underwear a lonely sock.
And, nesting in a pile of used towels,
those missing spectacles.
A battered typewriter
sulks, neglected
on the desk.
The reek of cigarettes would have
camouflaged the smell of sex, but
you don’t smoke any more…
What bomb exploded here,
that weekend?
5 Comments | Tags: poetry, thoughts
23 Jan 2009 - 11:46
this poem smells of sex.
23 Jan 2009 - 15:33
This poem not only smells of sex but it says also a lot about your personality: I can see your carnal eyes and the unstable vertigo of your desiring lips…you are a Democrat!!!!
25 Jan 2009 - 1:31
well… ms palin, i don’t really get vertigo
but i agree that i am not Republican.
12 Mar 2009 - 12:01
Tate Britain. Turner Prize exhibition. 1999. My old bed. Copyright infringement!
12 Mar 2009 - 15:31
ms emin:
your 1999 bed didn’t have the pair of spectacles. sorry. this was a rather more recent scene. copyright law recognises independent creation