Wednesday, April 29, 2026

I fought Garth. 

If any landed, 

punches thrown.  


She watched and wondered 

matter of men swing at tree limbs. 

Tree grow out of the concrete 

on a path and fence

From the tracks. 


She's French kisser. 

Heads pointed 2:00 and 7:00.  

We go right into it 

with fists limbs to stir. 

Began summer 

bedlam.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Eye the bulwark  and see stars.  Longing and whiles.     Parade on the quarter.   To your good health.  The faster blade.  The hour stoic.  ...