I'm in a poetry class and we're writing a series with common theme as final project for a small chapbook. This has helped me flesh out my game and so if you have anything written. Post here for kicks. Seems like a fun idea to barf forth.
The Golden Age of men had already ended. This is my world
where bullets fly, things break, bodies litter the ground that
undomesticated dogs have reclaimed in the name of nothing.
My best friend is a crowbar painted yellow. It busts open
doors, heads, windows, ribs, and locks with no distinction.
It helps me conduct my business (breaking knees) and leads
a symphony of thuds, yelps and crinkling bones. The sounds
of rusted hinges surrendering is a prelude to my favorite part.
I’ll never get tired of listening to broken glass. It sounds sweet
as it falls, clattering like silver jingle and snow onto the streets.
My name is Atlas and I enforce the laws of Old Man Rickets.
I live in the Castle Hotel. Broken glass sounds pretty. It’s fun,
bubble wrap fun. My best friend is a crowbar painted yellow.