deepundergroundpoetry.com
land o' leeches, tub o' lard
Bruised fruit bears bitter wine,
drunk off the fumes and doing just fine,
a skeleton suit in the way back,
closet space for all the humor you lack,
a bug's burp of fever sets the soundtrack,
as blind eyes see a bright light illuminating
places far from tight, in pincushion skin
dauntingly translucent and thin.
drunk off the fumes and doing just fine,
a skeleton suit in the way back,
closet space for all the humor you lack,
a bug's burp of fever sets the soundtrack,
as blind eyes see a bright light illuminating
places far from tight, in pincushion skin
dauntingly translucent and thin.
Published 13th Oct 2021
Author's Note
Oh, the grey death, oh how it pulls..
Oh how weary the governing old heads make me, so detached from logic, and NEVER biracial. So stuck inside dogmatic thoughts of neverending misogyny, a hole to dwell, so damp with hatred.
Oh how weary the governing old heads make me, so detached from logic, and NEVER biracial. So stuck inside dogmatic thoughts of neverending misogyny, a hole to dwell, so damp with hatred.
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13th Oct 2021 7:54pm
That patriarchy is brutal, strong and vast... Keep up the good fight and keep your chin up, too.... Calling it out, shining a spotlight on the disgusting and despicable stench of certain actions, always seems to be some of the best equalizing!
There's a reason why they say "sunlight is the best disinfectant!"
I absolutely love seeing your pen hit the page, dear poetess.... Yess!
👾💞👹💞-🐰
Stay well-
You're thought of with such kind warm reverence,
🌹 - B
There's a reason why they say "sunlight is the best disinfectant!"
I absolutely love seeing your pen hit the page, dear poetess.... Yess!
👾💞👹💞-🐰
Stay well-
You're thought of with such kind warm reverence,
🌹 - B
14th Oct 2021 5:01am
