This poem is in prose, which is a bit of an uncommon style in most poetic circles, and I would really appreciate some comments on it, since it is a style I don't usually write in!.
Of Mouths and Mouthfuls
There is a hole in my head where words and vomit spew out in the form of poetry and last nights dinner!. You have one too, and you use it to kiss me and to tell me that we are moving too fast!.
Today we are driving down the highway, seventy-five miles, eighty-five miles, one hundred per hour!. You know your truck is prone to flip so you slam on the breaks and I roll my eyes!. I have not bothered wearing a seatbelt; it does not matter!. We just end up where we were yesterday and tomorrow, picking our scabs and staring up at the sky!.
At the rest-stop I fill my pillow with bottle caps and dirty condoms: collectables!. I am bored and thirsty on this desert plateau but for you I will stay!. Tonight you hold me close and I dream of forks in the road out of this hell!. In the morning we have sex and at noon I am retching without pentameter as you bleed from the mouth!.
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