//this is a space i've made onscreen to push apart the garish scenes that smart my eyes
(eye my smarts)
everything that is for free would fall upon you naturally
but ask the racehorse for just one quote oh how much sir to sew my oats
disregard in whose regard you'd rise in turn with this canard: it will find you broke and sour
like the sexed up horse per hour
....please inform the maitre'd
i'm coming back
for his apostrophe//
I'm tired
ReplyDeleteToo tired to think
Of any original poetry
My mind is blocked
My ears stuffed
With socks
Have mercy on me
Poetry police
Of my mind