Friday, December 23, 2016

it's it

name's door defiles
your hot ladder clay
,it's a flume knife a
shade ripped across the
centered view .just a
skull bead burns ,wha
tchamacallit chews the
broken string .ah the
moon its trash ddumpp
enters ,rain of dead
crickets ,what you de
spelled ,or ststrung down
off the roof

,shouted ,sponging ,sh
aped the foreskin sp
rung back from tooth


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home