Last chorus vox of reason
swing green knees and then--
rusted shut cigar box
feeling car doors locked nose
powdered flour, you're fine
no need to lie back in tobacco
staring through stripped windows
that accept all competent coupons.
I'll just overhear intended scare tactics
what an inedible start to
non-black clad interview...
still manage to similie seamlessly
even Cinderella losing a plastic
half size loafer leaving the dungeon
card table won't back down-- bark.
It's gonna be the freak flag, then
ignore voicemails with their top
button done up sweet strangle,
the big bills, coughing fits.
Previous enjoyment experience
includes activism in filth,
knee high art without references.
week44: 1, 2, 3, 4
here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day