The whole movement, the whole project
pounding sweet reverie, revelry sweating beads,
hot waste dreams pasted yellow,
sallow eyes among the fields of whimpers
and slowly beating hearts,
breathing steam from babbling streaming towers;
nothing giant plowed from earthenware
or wearing tweeting demon activities.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Poem-A-Day: Day 550
Cycle 24
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Drop a line, a quip, a snippet, your pants, or an anecdote...just don't drop the soap.