deepundergroundpoetry.com

Image for the poem Cold Cock

Cold Cock's Whistle

...the clock chimed, but no one there
a buckeye in the lantern's light
burning through death's poncho  
in my grave unholy hole in the ground
listening to the cold cock's whistle
while waiting for my friend Cisco
eating my dirt with a wasteland spoon
with no life in dark chlorine
just worms and parasites  
burning through death's poncho.
Written by PaleSkies
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1 reading list entries 1
comments 2 reads 169
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 6:23pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 2:13pm by Ahavati
POETRY
Today 9:48am by Chere-Rene13
SPEAKEASY
Today 2:56am by SweetKittyCat5
COMPETITIONS
Today 2:49am by Controversity
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 12:43pm by Strangeways_Rob