i've been dead for five years now,
dead,
it's awesome, baby,
it just goes on and on and on and on
how are you?
still having those panic attacks?
still got that old doctor?
i'm sorry
you know i love right?
always?
sleep, like me, baby, just sleep,
dream something better
put down the drink in your hand
and just sleep
i roll around sometimes
this coffin ain't no fun sometimes
but i hear you
i hear you
always
my opinion?
pray a little harder,
don't think of me early in the morning,
just sleep, like me, baby, just sleep
dream oranges
something pure
i can't come back
i already asked
NO
you are beautiful
always
just sleep
hang on
dream.
After failing miserably as a rock star, Derek Richards began submitting his poetry, August 2009. Over 140 of his
poems have appeared in over seventy publications, including Lung, Breadcrumb Scabs, MediaVirus, Calliope Nerve,
tinfoildresses, Opium 2.0, Dew on the Kudzu, Sex and Murder, Splash of Red and fourpaperletters. He has also been
told to keep his day job by Quills and Parchment. Nothing annoys him more than poetry written solely to make
someone feel stupid. His ferret, cat and puppy couldn't agree more. Happily engaged, he resides in Gloucester,
MA., cleaning windows for a living.
| "sleep, like me, baby, just sleep" fits into my favorite self-genre: morbid humor. but always with a little salt in the cut. death fascinates me because its one of the few things in my 38 years i've yet to experience. also had dozens of my peers get to experience death along the way. sometimes it just ain't no fun "out there". |
