Poems from nina.buttafuoco
You play like a broken record I just can't throw out
What with your intense skips and gaps and repeats in a song I used to love
With your...
There is something strangely comforting
About standing in the dark
Overlooking New York City
In a park across the bay
In the dead of winter...
When I die, remember me not for my prose, but for my poetry
Do not remember me for my plain expressions and monotone speech in daily life...
he’s a snake these days
slithering around
an anaconda
he suffocates me
I wish you were here
you’d stop him
you’d be stronger than me
at...
my hair is short now
i wonder if you’d like it
i draw much more now
i wonder if you’d like it
i write poems now
i wonder if you’d like it
I...