Port
The body, killed harbor the boat takes
It traces upon new dock farce
Sparse temporal day older
Atrocious walkers? The same darkness.
Might laughter in prayer or a new rite
And not much else would shroud,
But when I find the pain that reaps
I review the immense hungry of my people.
Striations inside the soul, at the mall
Where could be better,
This injustice to fray I can recite
To me so bitter brandy drunk
And I try and cannot but go along
But the weeds take what was wheat.
No comments:
Post a Comment