Just your ordinary half-drunk poet, coasting through life on a cocktail of bourbon, wit and oft-failed attempts at irony. If you order this at a bar, you have to down it.
Say what you mean. Mean what you say.
Luke Downes is a member of All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Blue Room, Freedom In Words & Art, Graphic Scratch, The Word Tree and Up & Coming Writers.
Posted 10 months ago, 11 comments so far.
Posted 10 months ago, 18 comments so far.
Posted 10 months ago, 17 comments so far.
Posted 11 months ago, 20 comments so far.
1. Rotting apple. / Glorious, rotting, inside-out apple / for the beetles and birds / to get drunk on.
I am still a scavenger / too anxious / to move in alone / for the grisly slaughter.
she has a handful / of secret hopes
A snake, / twenty-two feet / of reptilian beauty,
i want to drive south into mexico to / sit on a warm beach, down cervezas / on the hood of my chevy
When we are having breakfast / your voice oscillates and I’d swear