Who Needs Your Stinking Solar Syste -------------------------------------------
The Moon and I rang up the Sun,
and begged him to sleep in,
citing neither one of us can bear the day again.
The Sun just laughed and called us daft,
then hung up the phone,
So fuck you, Sun, and screw you, Moon,
I'll carry on alone.
I liked your style. I've checked some of your writes and happen to think that there's a sort of veiled richness sprawled through your words which makes them all together exciting and starkly appealing, to boot.
To my money, this current write of yours speaks about anger and resentment. It does bring to mind the frame of mind one reaches after having lost that one person who mean the world to you .... after having undergone an appallingly devastating heart break. I'm sure there's more to it than meets the eye but that's what the poem triggered within myself ... which, for all I know, maybe just just bullocks ....
Hope you are doing well,
with respect and admiration,
Ethan Brody.
I laughed. Maybe that's not what you're going for, but I laughed. And at the same time , I winced a little. There is no feeling more universal than not wanting to get up in the morining, not wanting to face the angry neighbor or project due or boss at work or whatever it may be. You have a good habit of picking universal topics for your work. I just keep wanting more and feeling a little dissapointed when the words end.
Submission Name: Who Needs Your Stinking Solar Syste
