Pipe Dreamers and Bottle Breakers By Audrey Matott
Pipe Dreamers and Bottle Breakers They smell as bad as their blood Blood that never bleeds through their chrome. Yet they are righteous, brave, stronger than us all; than each other. They look down on everything and everyone but themselves. Yet they are above all those wounds, they can heal, they have no pain. They hear nothing but the voice they were born with; no hearts beating or happiness chanting. Yet their voices must be heard above all; that is their right not mine. They suck on sexual innuendoes, self-expression, emotional enhancements, social disappointments. Yet they never leave a bad taste with their cheerios and jokes. They feel I am just another breath, a friend, a muse. Yet they don’t know themselves, me or anybody. Why should they? We all die anyway.