and i could name you insults,
beeping heart. and we are
beeping from you, ear and nose,
but that doesn't mean the group
is exactly sick. loud. increasingly
gulping teas with smoke rinds.
burning my nursery with hearsay
pregnant with a turkey that is
not foodsafe anymore, thanks.
what am i going to do with you,
my giblets, very irony. heart. nose.
ears. neck. liver blown glassy.
throw us at the window?
squeeze the madman's hand?
No comments:
Post a Comment