Poem Hunter
Poems
Razors
PN (Oct 1983 / Canada)

Razors

And when did the world make any sense?
I need no symbolisms
No metaphors to
try and figure out...

Razor blades and fireworks
drifting in and out
through time
I don't know where I'm going
And I don't really mind. Can't remember
last night's last call
but I do remember two summers ago
when the world was a little more optimistic
now it's just grey and pessimist
fingernails and strands of hair
lying round the bathroom sink
when did I become such a mess?
I feel my world start to crumble-
and will this ever make any sense?
Does it all lead up, conclude, fit? All I can think about is
razor blades and fireworks...
busted lips and a taste of blood
Last night's last calls
one night stands and perseverance
to that which I will never understand.

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