the sky is like englands beer
no
surprises in the glass and poured everywhere
a grey wave of dirty cotton
thrown above to horizon black trees
and
flat
industry roofs
scooped shallow holes
glow weak white light
and
it
all slides sideways slowly
drifting - the world!
i become comfortably dizzy
and
the air is still like those childhood sunday afternoons
when
you
wonder
about it all
alone
on
a
street corner leaning on railings
shiny
from time and a million hands
counting
the
seconds
out
on a casio watch
No comments:
Post a Comment