chip chatter pulled to the end of line
too much of me to make much of
anything outta this whole gasping nothing
these kids above the bowl
stinking of wine, grease,
glint of blade and brilliance
carved jagged letter before that jump
all fingers on handles
whisper cautiously someones
at the baying door and we're the opposite sex
to drown to drown to drown
left a name left a spinning nowhere mystery
two bodies sleeping soulless
chatter on the walls drifting throughout time
I read it sometime in my future
before the walls decayed, before
their names, painted over.
No comments:
Post a Comment