Spit Poet is a Mobile Self Publishing Project giving contributing freedom, inspiration and the ability to self-print and circulate their work.
With no theme for the 6th Issue of Spit Poet, I submitted a poem of mine that was written in the midst of winter.
This poem was formed in the middle of a cold January, where worries, dust and rain had all seeped into my thoughts. Peak SAD season. I worried about becoming one with my bed and slipping silently into old age. Thankfully I never do anything silently…
Back to bed
And we'll sink Like fingernails dig flesh Like dents in a mattress Into old age With only pain A sprain, a fall To keep us warm Inside this wood walled Cozy kind of hell Sharp and then dulled Pill after pill Till we fade into the knots And the streaks And the stains And the mattress dents Grow deeper
Vol 06 // Summer 2019