04-15-2016, 02:36 AM
Mum there's someone at the door
The town hall clock bled poppies
from its hands to land at the statues boots.
Just like the soldier he wanted to copy
the boy chased toy gunshots down city streets.
The rivers combine birds, angel and eye,
flowing out to be drowned in sand storms
attacked by each other behind blind spots
and heat exhaustion, held in court under caution.
As the door begs not to be opened I stumble on the step
and crumple parents with papers and apologies,
still proud they take the knock, my sickle and scythe
cuts their house in two and I only find half the words.
The town hall clock bled poppies
from its hands to land at the statues boots.
Just like the soldier he wanted to copy
the boy chased toy gunshots down city streets.
The rivers combine birds, angel and eye,
flowing out to be drowned in sand storms
attacked by each other behind blind spots
and heat exhaustion, held in court under caution.
As the door begs not to be opened I stumble on the step
and crumple parents with papers and apologies,
still proud they take the knock, my sickle and scythe
cuts their house in two and I only find half the words.
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out

