Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2009

Own Means

by Saul Sherry

Licking the grimy salt shadows 
from his fingerprints
You dart out, faux-hippy
tripping on your on-trend benefactor's budget
Tungsten tongues, knives
in the night
Your mind is blank but for 
the brilliance of your own sloppy birth

A woman heads South to town,
got souls in her suit pockets
You've got vice with her,
she stands for something
Anything means nothing, nothing
your all

You smoke roadside trash 

Added: 26.04.2009