deepundergroundpoetry.com

round table

and they gathered
around the burning pit
of the world wide web
 
bring in walker  
she said
what options do we have
incineration of his existence ?
evaporation of him ?

some prickly voiced fella goes
burn his words
erase
everything
 
but for that  
he gotta commit some crime
and they found none
scratching their lice ridden hair
 
till that moment she said
 
and walker was kept dangling
ropes around his shoulders
treadmill below his feet
giving him the illusion
he's walking
Written by walker (111)
Published
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