deepundergroundpoetry.com
anti-bliss
Nothing smells worse than
This: Thursday evenings,
plastic trees growing
in the living room.
A burnt electrical circuit,
old magazines.
The slow disguise of time.
Nothing tastes worse than
This: empty coffee mugs,
computer screens and
flattened carpet.
A determined
noiseless noise.
Could He handle freedom? [/font]
This: Thursday evenings,
plastic trees growing
in the living room.
A burnt electrical circuit,
old magazines.
The slow disguise of time.
Nothing tastes worse than
This: empty coffee mugs,
computer screens and
flattened carpet.
A determined
noiseless noise.
Could He handle freedom? [/font]
Published 4th Jun 2010
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Anonymous
11th Apr 2014 6:15pm
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