Ode to Tom


Wearing a torn bloodstained turtleneck tuxedo, a silent piano player drunk from heartaches mouthed his song in broken tongues while a pencil thin prima-donna danced, frozen in time. As dawn sliced through the cover of night, his mind drifted on a warm summer breeze and as a young girl laughed hanging upside down scantily clad in recycled afterthoughts, his body was laid to rest beneath a bed of his own lies.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *