New Project

Now available through LuLu publishing: Smoke & Eyeliner

http://www.lulu.com/product/lulustudio-photo-book/smoke-eyeliner/16811507

A Public Note

I should mention here, that all poems are subject to rampant revision. Should you see a poem here, that I have posted elsewhere, and you notice that they are completely different, consider what is here the final product.

Atrophy

she
was
like
a
floating
flower
on
a
river
of
asphalt;
beautiful
once.
there's
no
joy
in
her
life
now,
just
a
used needle
to
cure
her
lonely,
distorted
reality.
a
terrible
waste,
like
some
antique
left
to
rot
among
other
discarded
treasures.

©Gary Coker II, 2011

Left Behind

she could have been
the last
one,

a long line of
pretty faces before hers.

broken
like the shell
of an almond,

my heart
tossed on a shelf
littered with empty shell casings.

she was a pistol
with a grip
to grab the substance of a man;

left for
dead in the carnage
of her passing.

kiss her for me
if you see her
and tell her where to find
me--

I'll be at the bar with nothing
but a
burned out,
hollowed soul.

©Gary Coker II, 2011

Good Husband

he's looking for the good life
he said:

"it's around this joint,
has to be"

and it's true, there
is a lot of

panty hose, eyeliner
lipstick and a sweet sweaty
smell that only a dime could make.

I told him that his wife
might not be too pleased
with his extracurricular activities

outside

the boundaries of a suburban
mini-van

this is what he told me:

"my mini-van has
lots of leg room"

There's no arguing that

so we bought another round and
his hopes became mine
in some drunken bond of brotherhood.

A Night In The Life

eyes burned
red
and
irritated,

bright like
a neon sign-

some rugged Jersey
street corner

whore
beating against the hard

landscape
of her life--dreams

snuffed
out.

a need

to get to the vein sensation--gone,

she's wasted

tuned out;

a trip while tripping,

stumbling,

rambling and mumbling

her next payment on pavement:

"thirty dollars."

that's her dream

her life on Jersey
concrete
and there's no
hope of getting out alive.

Update

This evening, I have submitted several new poems to Black-Listed Magazine, Gutter Eloquence and Word Riot.

I think these poems were some of my better work, so piss on 'em if they reject these masterpieces.

Now, where did I put that Vodka.