tears the last page
out of a book
a lawless fellow
on remand
steals another car
don't touch me
you psychopath
I'll kill you
bless me sunset
call a lawyer
hold me in the morning
burn it all down
a poet counts the beats
makes up the ending
inside and outside
idiocy I guess
hold me in the morning
burn it all down
a poet counts the beats
makes up the ending
inside and outside
idiocy I guess
and some poets can't count at all
ReplyDeleteand even the ones who can, you can't count on
shake hands
but count yours fingers after
Deletebut the other hand
holds the brass knuckles
which work a treat
and fun for all ages
(pick up and put on ice
re-attach fingers later)