Mike Collins Poetry Hour.

He's the next T.S. Elliot

City

cars drive by, lazy
subway cars rattle loudly-
13 cats meow


India

They wash their black feet
In ponds of sticky soda-
Let’s strike up a match

Love

sex with a stranger
you think she likes it in the
butt? i love anal...


Grainy Pieces of Sparkling Sand Shimmering under the Golden Sun in August

sand, so innocent-
comfort at the beach, not so
much in vaginas

Yellow

silverly silver
shimmering sunlight- i got
anorexia

I hope this becomes a weekly installment.