Monday, February 7, 2011

2am

 2am
My eyes are round as nickels my 
pupils like dimes as I now know something 
which had previously eluded me 
and it makes me feel 
washed up on cold sand tired 
tired to beat the band set in my place 
by the slow movement of a hand
i’ve been doing no one favors as i 
tossed them candy from my fire-truck 
saying things like ‘sweet’ and ‘well’ and
trying to please the entire parade confounded by 
the trash left on the street
dont know what gave me the notion i was 
chamomile tea 
to every changing face that once entreated me 
thought I was kind and found that I 
am only another kind of cruel

1 comment:

Gold Leaf said...

won't you follow me down

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