to walk among the dust and raise up the dead,
always over-head of us; can't ever buy bread.
Now hunger kills me, you skip ahead,
skip ahead - burn your bridges - wake the dead.
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welcome to the waste-bin.
Where did the motivation to write this come from ? If you don't mind me inquiring .
ReplyDeleteHello and thanks for visiting! I was hearing the repetition of the words "skip ahead, skip ahead" in my brain for some reason, and for another equally random reason I thought of a voice behind the words, a voice that belonged to Judas muttering to himself what he'd like to say to Christ, and now there's a poem. Anyhow.
ReplyDeleteI like this one Nate.
ReplyDeleteI also really like this one. Make it bigger!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mary, Tyson! I may make it bigger but I'll have to wait on the words I think to see if my internal Judas has anything else to say. Maybe he does.
ReplyDelete