This is writing that doesn't fit into any particular category. It's not prose and it's not quite poetry. It's not quite sane but it's something healthy. Not all of us have it figured out. I sure as hell don't. It's a series of locutions on madness and locura.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Unsolicited
DEATH has found ME again BUT I can't be made to raise a hand Wish it weren't so with all my soul But on this grass I stand.
No comments:
Post a Comment