deepundergroundpoetry.com

slow healing is fast pased card dealing, i'm left reeling

I break and thrash,
accusing a tide so violent
for all the cuts.
The crumbling foundation
in a house of rotation
now up for liquidation.
Singing pirate songs in an alley,
as the people in our wake hang from the galley,
sadistic art gallery how gallant;
To ride a stead to the rescue,
steady and return books long overdue
in the rightful spot.
A self righteous slot
hoping to be caught
and punished for naught.
A lever to pull,
a pulley to level,
at the bottom of the levee.
Sharps in a box; a bevy,
a shaping of thots,
too heavy to carry.
Being build different is good
to swallow all of this wood.
The pulp is sticking
to fiction; I'm licking
to practice dictkion
no friction.
unnifaomsl
Written by unnifaomsl
Published
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Em-ily Bluevelvete
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