Sonntag, 6. Januar 2013

debrief of a letter

Can I bake tiny pastry
Put it round your St. Maria bed?
Can I roll grey elephants
To your unmade living room?
Can I raise my hand
In your frentic class?
Can I lay out monsters
In your glasspaper world?
One unlike the other
fixed, yet broken
says you
and the elected oracle
when it rolls, with wood
and catgrin sail
noone asks to be on board
and if my bloodletters
reaching home with a withered pidgeon
fail to fit the messhall promise
am I with right?
am I in timely fashion?
Speak, or you'll have heard this one before

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