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Literature Text
White-knuckled as water
hemlock hanging
onto Queen Anne's
lace perception,
you waver like a screen door, rusty
springs all choked, twisted
inside you. Roughhewn son
of bluegrass summer, flutter forth
on rotten wood heels. Eye
the thin-thin creek so nervous,
while poison wires you
ripe to run.
hemlock hanging
onto Queen Anne's
lace perception,
you waver like a screen door, rusty
springs all choked, twisted
inside you. Roughhewn son
of bluegrass summer, flutter forth
on rotten wood heels. Eye
the thin-thin creek so nervous,
while poison wires you
ripe to run.
I am sad.
© 2013 - 2024 winterkate
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