deepundergroundpoetry.com
That Smell
Everyone is watching
three rizla's
on an album sleeve.
Heated crumbs
spread like seeds.
I can smell
the crop
burning my throat.
A diver in deep seas,
leaded
at belt and boot.
A cough laughs
on its way out
and I wonder what
I'm talking about,
and why they are
laughing at me.
Have you got anything to eat?
three rizla's
on an album sleeve.
Heated crumbs
spread like seeds.
I can smell
the crop
burning my throat.
A diver in deep seas,
leaded
at belt and boot.
A cough laughs
on its way out
and I wonder what
I'm talking about,
and why they are
laughing at me.
Have you got anything to eat?
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