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miceal-kearneyPoems
I water the cabbages the dog runs about mad as I walk back and forth to the blue barrels filling Gran’s grey watering can. In college I learnt how to depreciate … I wouldn’t dare do such a thing. The caterpillars squatting on the cabbages coil as the water rains down upon them, followed by my thumb. (I keep meaning to write that poem.) 19th of June; 9:45pm — I have one more job to do and I will do it practising a few reels. My fingers do not need my eyes so make myself a ****** be in the woods where they can’t see me — the snakes. Years and years and years of cleats traversing the field below have to left pairs of ungelating snakes slithering towards the four gates in the field. Soon I pan to install a 5th and this worries me, never having hung one before; plus what if the snakes bite me. Or worse I succeed. For now I fret, leering towards the bull, I want to see him *** — #414, she’s still not in calf. If she repeats again, it’s goodbye for him. But the ****** just grazing. Swishing at flies, periodically ****** and poops. Is my playing distracting him? I suppose … we’re all entitled to a night off.
0
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 2:06 AM UTC
After Dinner
I water the cabbages the dog runs about mad as I walk back and forth to the blue barrels filling Gran’s grey watering can. In college I learnt how to depreciate … I wouldn’t dare do such a thing. The caterpillars squatting on the cabbages coil as the water rains down upon them, followed by my thumb. (I keep meaning to write that poem.) 19th of June; 9:45pm — I have one more job to do and I will do it practising a few reels. My fingers do not need my eyes so make myself a ****** be in the woods where they can’t see me — the snakes. Years and years and years of cleats traversing the field below have to left pairs of ungelating snakes slithering towards the four gates in the field. Soon I pan to install a 5th and this worries me, never having hung one before; plus what if the snakes bite me. Or worse I succeed. For now I fret, leering towards the bull, I want to see him *** — #414, she’s still not in calf. If she repeats again, it’s goodbye for him. But the ****** just grazing. Swishing at flies, periodically ****** and poops. Is my playing distracting him? I suppose … we’re all entitled to a night off.
Cleats; tractor tracks. any comment, feedback?
Written by
miceal-kearney
Irish
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 2:06 AM UTC
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