Spice IX
Like seaworld / on a friday
That upsetting crash of fin
Helen slides her hand along a flat black
Insecting park / like the tinniest flutter
A spurt of yellow god smiles
Drunk midday / hell feet pounding
Big ears around our family / unhappy
25.4.08
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thanks baby. you're winning at NaPo.
ReplyDeletethis is lovely...i like these "spice" poems...you should submit them somewhere!
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