500
Throwing
my loaded dice
Searching
for the little edelweiss
Everybody
can intuit
Blooms
in the rain wrapped misty hills
You
can see far way outside
From
the wounds the alleys plow through
The
city’s people’s nests crowded hills
During
Sundays mornings
Obscured
by more than alcoholic hangovers
Talking
with kids wearing for the first time
Their
first gun of second hand
Eager to demonstrate they’re now men
That
vain excess that endlessly repeats itself
Waiting
for an undeserved miracle before death
To Edgar
VABM July 27, 2014
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario