Submissions by tribescribe

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading – treading – till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through – “

number 22 would be 33

today

i do not know
i do not remember much

busstops and sharing a bed

i suppose

antiques of nostalgia and

other such                                    marginalia of memory

One day you had a gerbil perched on your head
the next a tarantula

plodding up your thigh

blind stupid reticent

Terrified.

what...