Project 365. Poem 1
Emily Dickinson wrote 366 poems in 365 days. I am going to do the same thing. One poem a day. Warning: They will be terrible.
#1:
I walked through the city
Past the sex workers
Who’d call out hey honey, looking for a good time?
And the junkies,
Strung out
On being strung out
To a tiny church that smelled liked the fried chicken joint next door
I would talk to the preacher about salvation and the Knicks
It’s all about hope he’d say,
Without hope, there can be no salvation
There can be no championship
#1:
I walked through the city
Past the sex workers
Who’d call out hey honey, looking for a good time?
And the junkies,
Strung out
On being strung out
To a tiny church that smelled liked the fried chicken joint next door
I would talk to the preacher about salvation and the Knicks
It’s all about hope he’d say,
Without hope, there can be no salvation
There can be no championship