I have a dead mother who,
In some ways,is more present,
Than my present Father,
That could make you think,
That my Mother is present,
Quite a lot,
She isn't
Presence,
And absence,
Like my Mum and Dad,
Are both,
Relative
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The Note
I wrote On a note Words to live by Words to point me to life Words to warn of the danger Of how neglect will lead in to strife I wrote On ...
-
I find the cool channels between buildings where the wind finds flow, This breeze block, asphalt, concrete complex, Where the radiance of ...
-
When honest becomes your brand, you'd better shut up shop The truth of you for sale, the under hand slides up top, Your candour on dema...
-
This master-work of yours, This magnum opus, This poiema, Is sat in his underpants In a neglected and untidy flat, Typing on a laptop he bou...
No comments:
Post a Comment