by Tyler Cobb
Undaunted by the careening world he lived in,
Wanting to be a born again rock star, he chose the black path to celebrity.
He ate through beautiful women the way a corkscrew slips into a wine bottle
And now he exists as folklore
As the tension that built up in the shadows of Hollywood.
Sometimes a dream becomes so real that you can kiss its feet
And sleep in its home but when it turns its back and all that's left
Is dope and disease one finds that violence is the voice that never gets ignored
Words like homicide, maim, kill, pain, blood, stab, scream, wound, and slice
Always perk up the pupils, just ask Rolling Stone and all those rolling cameras.
Tyler Cobb is a poet living in St. Paul, Minnesota. He graduated from Gustavus Adolphus College. His work has appeared in BlazeVOX, The Blue Print Review, and Apt. He can be reached at email@example.com.