deepundergroundpoetry.com

The faster I run, the less further I get

 
 
 
 
spring has grown  
fangs and is going  
for the throat of man
 
and i want to go home
and sleep for a year  
 
our lives are finger
food for God
 
and I haven't washed  
my hair in three days
 
thoughts are a cul
de sac
 
feeling a morgue  
 
the human spirit  
goes down like
cheap whiskey  
and burns  
 
out of our  
minds
 
out of time
 
out goes the
lights  
 
and the dark sits
in the corner licking  
it's lips,
a hungry  
cat
 
.
 
 
 
 
 
04/05/11:08am/est
Written by buddhakitty
Published
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