deepundergroundpoetry.com
Because chopping boards sound like
destruction
in a different skirt
like taut wires
on old pianos
hammering out
their dust
their ache
tools
and nails
and fistfuls
of earthy
silence
that blunt blue button
that wiped out the air
like umbilicals
butchered fresh
from the womb
like police cars
and terror
like your bomb
I have not allowed
to bloom
in a different skirt
like taut wires
on old pianos
hammering out
their dust
their ache
tools
and nails
and fistfuls
of earthy
silence
that blunt blue button
that wiped out the air
like umbilicals
butchered fresh
from the womb
like police cars
and terror
like your bomb
I have not allowed
to bloom
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