(no subject)
tiny round birds on the willows of the birch
chirping in the euclyputus at the edge of the ring
digging in the sand infront of the jumps
they have tiny mahogany heads
and feast on red berries
until they are drunken
drunken ----
the poem ends. the paper has been tattered snatched ripped out of my hand, and destroyed. and now there is no more.
chirping in the euclyputus at the edge of the ring
digging in the sand infront of the jumps
they have tiny mahogany heads
and feast on red berries
until they are drunken
drunken ----
the poem ends. the paper has been tattered snatched ripped out of my hand, and destroyed. and now there is no more.