deepundergroundpoetry.com

WEED KILLER

for now
the words
are gone
and i am
empty as these
late night
streets
hungry
for inspiration
and oddly stifled

a sort of
anti-poet
in my brain
deadly as
a late
frost
to whatever
might bud
from
these dull
grey
furrows

and not
even
a weed
shows
its little
green
head
Written by javalini
Published
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