the world grows uglier by Anthony Liccione

some people
find themselves
stuck in mirrors,
unable to escape
the fabric of ugliness,

screaming in vain
that life is empty
without them,
false flowers pass
as dream blossoms
plucked and chucked
into the gutters.

these same
had never smelled
the opening of a rose,
had no desire
to help the homeless,
stuck in the gutter
of alleyways and
ghosts. quietly
breathing in a
vicious world.
rather they
puff up the streets,
maul the shopping malls,
stab the nail
technicians,
the beauty salons
patient waiting
for others
to gawk
at the new lulu
(and wish upon
their fucking stars,
to have them in
bed)

seeking beauty
the one the world always
seems to bend over for.
they know, they know
what humankind always
wants of them,
beer commercials
where sex sells more
than alcohol,
and desperate people
are always buying
drunk in loneliness.

age ticks
a time bomb
and gravity leans
pulling down curtains
of wrinkles,
when an empty
inside
explodes full
of detest,
and the better
than thou,
turn bitter
in their beauty.

Three Poems by Anthony Liccione

close

the blood doesn’t
run, like it once
did,
from the open
wrist and below
my arm to elbow
and into
your full breast,
it just runs slow
and cold,
like paint thick
slapped against
a barn

as you held me
with hot tears,
you always came
just in time
to call an ambulance
as the bathroom
floor became a gorge
of unresolved depression,
and you would hold me
tell me everything
will be okay

okey i wasn’t
and truthfully you
knew the sickness
was there,
but you gave me words
to feed upon,
let me fuck you
to stay sane,
tied a washcloth
around my wrist
to slow down the wrath
of blood from spilling
out every time

but we were just fools
you see,
innocent young fools
i can now tell you
as the ambulance
races to the hospital,
while i spit all this blood,
this is the first time
i can assure you
that it doesn’t hurt
anymore,

you’ve done a good job
in not making it here
this time,
i guess you can say
i beat you to the punch,
but oh these faces
around the table
how they look so pale
and grim and desperate,

trying in every way
to save a failed life. Continue reading