Shrewsbury clock
A portmanteau
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
SOMEWHERE IT IS ALWAYS WEDNESDAY
Put on the music so that
She may sing that she lives
On cigarettes and coffee,
Missing him. He enters
As a trumpet, pleading,
Soaring, dipping, fluttering;
He runs away, pivots,
Leaps in the air; floats down.
2 comments:
Laura
August 20, 2014 at 4:44 AM
Lovely!
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shrewsburyclock
August 20, 2014 at 6:02 AM
And thank you! But what did you think of the poem?
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Lovely!
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you! But what did you think of the poem?
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