Poetry for Strangers: Tea

women come and go
smirking at the gigolo

a fluttering of a plastic bag
a flickering flame in the gulag

a slim book of words can be an earthquake
to a closed mind’s fundamental mistake

a poem is an unwinnable game
infinite players gather all the same

doubt not the faith of the theatre troupe
shakespeare is a virtuous feedback loop

i stood on the shore weighing my misgivings
they didnt measure up to my shortcomings

peace is a myth created by the church
life is mad atoms ceaseless in the search

the only constancy
is a calm cup of tea

For more, visit Poetry for Strangers: Tea


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