Tuesday, October 13, 2009

The famine.

Is this a vociferous freedom
And does it matter?--

How I came to this abandonment howling
Skulking, between blasted out cinder blocks and lockets,
Treating everything at the tip of my nose as if
It were going to keep me alive--

It asks that you keep watch in these tight times,
The blight.

1 comment:

cap'm said...

Buck up kid. We'd trust you to cook a boot.