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 9 months ago, 11 comments so far.
Posted 9 months ago, 18 comments so far.
Posted 10 months ago, 17 comments so far.
Posted 10 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