deepundergroundpoetry.com

Gargoyles

On earth,    
scarab hued,  
arms arching    
as great titans,    
devil knocker,    
apothecary door    
I adored Allen Ginsberg,    
city parked,    
above bank,    
pine board floor    
electricity painted    
lineless walls.    
Deck on deck,    
two pair a dream.    
And hookah hands,    
domino pricks,    
end game palms,    
Gargoyle Street.  
Skipping paths,  
retreating back,  
exposing carpet,  
a favourite bench    
and opening doors  
firmly bolted      
ate small myths  
spat back at me,    
new ones in you,  
something for the road.
I'm tired now,
some other time.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published | Edited 12th Jan 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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