in the sweater
two flaming suns
in his armpits
and could wait
sit shelved
decay
triple chin avalanche
pollutes his pencil-
smudged
avenue of a face
Jelly and butter on toast vender
vortex best upstaged
away from certified grandmothers
abhorence
with outstretched arms
Best
stay inside
shivering in
the comfort of heads
come show some humanity
4 comments:
groped and gardened, what a pinch
the land of the flee and the home of the grave
maybe a song closer to he truth
very naked indeed
Post a Comment