Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2013
I held the height of human industry aloft in my left hand,
A polymer all of your children's great-grandchildren won't outlive.
And some old stranger glared at me, so I yelled at her "I litter!"
Her scowl grew, the old biddy knew I was a liar, and a kidder
mor(t)ality
Billo
Written by
Billo
2.8k
   The New Kestrel
Please log in to view and add comments on poems