May 24, 2020


by Steve J. Burkett (author's profile)



all the lights
are turned off
in these quiet
prison cells
nothing to do
except lay here
waiting for tomorrow
remembering yesterdays
nights of loneliness
no longer able
to stand in the rain
or disappear
into the fog
lines go on
but ours have stopped
who will turn
the lights back on

Steve Burkett


as the morning came
I awoke and made coffee
sitting down on the edge
of my life to watch
as a new daylight
beat down my door
I got up and danced
with a woman
I've danced with before.

Steve Burkett


I know Charles Bukowski's
the drunk poet
going from bar to bar
from poetry reading
he was full of more shit
than my brother Tim
just keep him away
from your sister
was the rule

Steve Burkett


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