Monologue
secondhand ticks slow, my head is hung low
drear interior, greys and whites, with flickering lights
floors so waxed they reflect, myself i can see
my state is in step with the lighting, jitter
bitter, the coffee is stale, she was pale
racing speech, i understand, i comprehend
my mind moves faster, than a greyhound race.
wait.
what did she say, i was distracted
by that monologue, will those behind me
not be silent, i just want them to be compliant.
12/12/21 – Andy McRae
Tag: coffee
Coffee
Coffee death in garb line in wait when i arrived my order already placed she’d retained order of last i drank coffee 11/8/2021 Andy McRae
Since this poem isn’t meant to be hard to understand, i want to explain that the first line refers to me wearing a death metal tee. \m/
Shadows and Sticks
Shadows and Sticks
caffeine hyperdrive
a manic stuck on auto drive
retrograde mental projections
back turned, I left in rejection
illusions weaved in my mind eye
forsaken by the very reality, I
a world of shadows and sticks
bending the truth, as the candle
burns down to the wick
I feel sick
10/18/21 – Andy McRae
Shadows and Sticks
Shadows and Sticks
caffeine hyperdrive
a manic stuck on auto drive
retrograde mental projections
back turned, I left in rejection
illusions weaved in my mind eye
forsaken by the very reality, I
a world of shadows and sticks
bending the truth, as the candle
burns down to the wick
I feel sick
10/18/21 – Andy McRae
RadioactivePoetry 