..
Never
mind the silence.
He’s a genius, a
restless soul who still
astonishes the (m)asses
with significant ar(t)dent
sway.
Absinthe
makes the heart
grow fonder,
rounder,
more solidly there
(with dark brown hair.)
Never mind
the immediate amp
-(m)utation of his
muse, the explosion
of surrealism in his goatee.
His conscience
has been scientifically
grifted.
Caution when opening
the universe, y’all.
.
(Continents may have
shifted.)
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I love this!!!
He died when he was in his thirties, but he did his poetry writing as a child and teen. That’s what “stopped at 21” means.
I can’t believe I’ve never thought of this:
“Absinthe
makes the heart
grow fo(u)nder” … You make me giddy, girl. (Ooh, “giddy girl” wants to be a poem title.)
Now I’m thinking of this.
“Absinthe…” that was just inspired! Loved.