C. Rook
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C. Rook
@poetcrook.bsky.social
14 followers 4 following 14 posts
A poet
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Hank rolled up.
His face was all screwed up, a total wreck.
“Tom’s dead,” he said.
I didn’t know the guy.
“Just Friday, we said hey… shook his hand.”
It was Monday.
...
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Drip coffee in one hand.
Greasy sub in the other.
Sitting at a gas station,
Chewing, watching people drift by.
Always liked that.
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“I’m so damn miserable, C.,”
she said before hanging up.
She was down,
the guy she was with
didn’t give a shit about her.
...

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There is only us
the intelligent ones
and we destroyed it all
knowingly, willingly
by surrendering
to our ambitions...

C. Rook

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His ankles were swollen.
He needed people—
and support—
just to walk.

With old, tired eyes,
he looked at the motorcycle.
Smiling like a child,
he said,
"Get me one of those,
don’t they make them for the disabled?"
...

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The King's Fall

and asked the question...
but in truth,
she had already drawn her dagger
and driven it into his heart.
It was a bloodless death.
Her tongue
was so sharp
he didn’t even feel the pain.

C. Rook

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Along
the river’s
crashing waves,
Love arrived.
The sky,
wet as your lips,
and the air thick with moss…
C. Rook

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A Tired Hum
by C. Rook
I’m tired,
sitting slumped on the couch.
The lamp’s yellow glow
burns my eyes.
Outside, there’s a wet noise,
buzzing inside my head.
In the depths of a deep silence,
I want to get lost.

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