Thursday, January 26, 2012

To what he saw and called French...
He soaks the bear in the orange peel
He always yells and determines the
interruptions he places his galiancy upon them,
His shout was the end of his soul and he could not sustain a way to
un-invert himself from that place
where he waited for me to uncover his birthday, his nightmare

poem by GraceEvary

Day Sleeper

If you take a way all of a womans dignity
she will say i do 
she will sleep with you
Shake her and give her a pen
he caved, 
ate all of her popsicles, 
 that man who was all about, I do.