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edward-vanhoosePoems
Full-voiced, thunderous the voice of truth whispers There was never nothing Never, death in Raine's morgue granted beauty en terra firma-- Never, soldiers sprawled like Fenton's bottles-- You object? Yes, of course. But still you drank the blood while the dead soldiers piled up surrounding your feet. Never, the steadily advancing rhythm of hands meeting, unintentionally speeding up while their voices intone faster and faster: Miss Susie had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell. Miss Susie went to heaven, the steamboat went to - He'll be fine they said or at least well-read And who knows? Maybe he'll learn to bestow aesthetics to evil.
0
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 8:18 PM UTC
Never
Full-voiced, thunderous the voice of truth whispers There was never nothing Never, death in Raine's morgue granted beauty en terra firma-- Never, soldiers sprawled like Fenton's bottles-- You object? Yes, of course. But still you drank the blood while the dead soldiers piled up surrounding your feet. Never, the steadily advancing rhythm of hands meeting, unintentionally speeding up while their voices intone faster and faster: Miss Susie had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell. Miss Susie went to heaven, the steamboat went to - He'll be fine they said or at least well-read And who knows? Maybe he'll learn to bestow aesthetics to evil.
Written by
edward-vanhoose
Dutch
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 8:18 PM UTC
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